#extra update since its very small

[lunicho]

(send riize asks to @angeltsan)

{𐙚 10:43} l. anton + l. sohee

♡ 3.8k | dom!anton, subby inexperienced!sohee, fem!reader, cuckholding, oral (f!receiving), premature ejaculation, unprotected sex (don't be like them), cumming inside, cum eating, anton is kinda an asshole, sohee is kinda pathetic

♡ a/n: DON'T READ THE LAST SENTENCE OMG ITS SO BAD IM SORRY,, im so bad at ending fics,,, anyways its been tew long since i wrote smth new so feast my loves,, i've kept y'all starving fr (i'm sorry) also new fic layout 😝😝 gonna be updating stuff on my blog so yeahhh.

you'd been with anton for a while. over that time you've come to learn a lot about him and things that he likes. of all the things you've learned, this might be the craziest one. 

a momentary silence fell over the room as you looked down at your hands, fiddling a little. you crossed your arms over your chest and thought hard. “okay wait.. you wanna do what?” 

anton tried to explain again, his voice quiet, “well sohee likes you.. and i know you like him and i'm okay with that.. i think we should let him have sex with us.. at least once.” 

you continued thinking, “i mean yeah i like sohee, but i don't know if i like him like that.. a- and how long has he liked me?” you were sort of struggling to wrap your head around the whole thing, the idea of sohee liking you as more than a friend never crossing your mind. 

“the same amount of time i've liked you, we both wanted you originally.. i just ended up being the one to make it official.” you frowned a little at this, suddenly feeling bad for sohee. you don't know if it was pity or if you really wanted this but something in you wanted to say yes to the whole idea. 

you weren't vanilla by any means when it came to sex but bringing one of anton's close friends into your bed was a little daunting, the idea of being the reason to ruin their friendship scared you. anton contrasted from you, he had a very calm demeanor about the whole thing, this both intrigued and intimidated you. 

“okay, we can do it..” you looked up at anton from where you sat, watching his eyes light up. he placed a large hand on the back of your head, just his gaze made you feel small. with his other hand he hooked a finger under your chin to tilt your head upward, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips. his kisses alone could take your breath away.

when you first got with anton he was nothing like this. he was shy, awkward, and honestly just overall submissive to you but the more you got to know him and the more confident he got, his personality began to really come out. he's still like that sometimes but the way he kisses you, the way he carries himself at times, even the way he fucks you is so different.

you whimper under your breath, pulling away slowly moments later, your teeth tugging at your lip gently, “so when do you want to do this?” you gazed up at the boy, your arms wrapping around him as you wait for his response. 

“i'll bring him over.. we can kind of feel things out you know? maybe watch some movies and have some snacks beforehand?” you nod at this, a wave of nerves washing over you, “what if something goes wrong? like what if you and sohee aren't friends after this?” 

anton chuckles at you, his cocky demeanor making you press your legs together. “we're still friends after i got the girl he wanted, what makes you think he wouldn't want to be friends after this? i’m practically doing him a favor.”

you nod at this, it's somewhat true, but you didn't want to let it bother you, anton was relaxed about it and this was his friend after all so you were okay with it.

you'd never paid much attention to the way sohee interacted with you until now. the way his hands would pull away extra fast when you'd hand him things, the fear of accidentally touching you taking over him. you even noticed the way he stared at you when he thought you weren't looking, you'd caught him out of the corner of your eye a few times now. 

you brought a bowl of popcorn over to the coffee table that was in the middle of your living room. the tv was on, waiting for commands from the remote.

sohee sat alone on the couch to the side of the one you were on, the bottoms of his  feet facing the tv and he kept his eyes trained on the screen, or at least that's what he wanted you to think. you see him now though, zoned in at the way he stares at your leg that's poking out of the blanket or how he just stares at you while you reach for another handful of popcorn. 

you were sat in anton's lap, his back leaned against the arm of the couch while you laid on your side cuddling into his chest. you couldn't help the way your gaze wandered to sohee, curiosity flooding your mind. you'd never thought about him differently, he'd always just been anton's friend but you'd be lying if you said you still thought of him that way now. 

you wondered what he'd look like naked, how his lips would feel on yours, how it'd feel to have his and anton’s hands on you at the same time, the thought made you squirm slightly in your spot. 

“mind wandering?” you turned to anton with a smile, your head gently nodding. anton adjusted you in your spot, your back now flush to his chest. there was a small blanket lazily thrown across the two of you, the fabric covering your lap slightly. 

anton's hands were gentle on you, big but delicate. you weren't looking at the tv at all anymore, your mind focused on the feeling of anton's hands on your body. he drags his hands across your waist and hips, fingertips slightly sliding across the waistband of your shorts. 

he'd specially requested for you to wear this pair of shorts, it happened to be his favorite pair and apparently sohee's as well. the two of them seemed to have a lot more in common than you originally thought. anton also specially requested that you “forgot” to wear panties tonight. 

his hand easily dipped into your pants, two of his fingers falling to your wet hole. he firmly dragged two fingers up your cunt, wetting it fully in the process. you breathed out of your nose, your legs opening up more for him. 

his pointer and ring fingers push your lips apart, his middle finger lazily flicking your bud up and down. neither one of you faced the tv at this point, anton placed lazy kisses on your shoulder while you soaked up the pleasure. 

anton speaks in a barely audible murmur into your ear, your eyes slowly peeling open at the sound of his voice, “let's show you off, call for him baby.” 

you nod along with what he said, your mind already feeling foggy. he dips both fingers into your hole, his long slender fingers curving up into you, “s-sohee..” 

he visibly perks up at the sound of your voice, his body stiffening. he was trying so hard to mind his business, you and anton moving around was so hard to ignore. he suspected something was going on but the sound of the movie drowned out the slick noises of your pussy. 

anton moved the blanket off of your lap, his fingers thrusting in and out of you harder than before. “wanna come see the pussy you've been dreaming about?” anton's tone is dripping with lust and cockiness. he's smiling at sohee, his free hand moving to grab a handful of your breast. 

your hand grips onto the arm he's fucking into you with as you feel yourself getting closer, you squeeze your eyes shut, a string of moans escaping your lips. 

sohee's frozen where he's at, already embarrassingly hard all of this is too much, he can't believe what's unfolding in front of him. 

the sound of your moans as you cum on anton's hand catches sohee's attention, he admires your beautiful expression, the one he'd daydreamed about for so long. 

your breathing is ragged, your head leaning back on anton's shoulder as you catch your breath. he let's go of your breast and uses that hand to gently grip your throat, his lips peppering kisses on your cheek as he pulls his soaked fingers out of your shorts. 

he rubs the backs of his fingers against your lips, your mouth opening for him. he slides the pads of his fingers down your throat, leaning to your ear once again. “invite him over.. let him play with you.” 

you lift your head off his shoulder,, your shorts sticking to your slick. “wanna come over here? wanna sit by me?” you pat the spot in between your legs, almost like you're calling over a puppy. sohee hesitates, his eyes trained on you. 

you could tell sohee was a bit more like anton used to be, again, shy, timid, a little awkward, and definitely not as dominant as anton is now. 

sohee nods weakly, walking over to you, unable to look either of you in the eyes, especially not anton. he didn't expect for this to somehow be so humiliating for him. he sat in front of you, shivering when he felt your hand gently rub down his arm. this made you smile, “relax hee.. i don't bite.” 

sohee let out a shaky breath, his eyes finally meeting yours. you brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing it gently. anton stood up as you did this, his hands moving to your shoulders. when he moved you readjusted, one of your legs resting gently on sohee's lap. 

you could feel how hard he was under your leg, his breath hitching in his throat when you put the slightest bit of pressure on his cock. you noticed how small it was, especially in comparison to anton's but you thought that was so endearing, smiling at the idea. 

anton leaned down to your ear, his whispers tickling you slightly, “show him how you kiss me, how you make me feel good..” he places small nibbles and kisses from your ear down to your shoulder. you shut your eyes at this, a shiver falling down your spine. his firm hands grip onto your shoulders, lightly massaging them in his grasp. you sigh contently at the feeling of anton's hands on your body. 

you open your eyes again, they immediately meet sohee's pretty round orbs. “you alright if i kiss you?” you look down at his lips, suddenly noticing how pretty and soft they are. you smile and chuckle a little, noticing a few crumbs of popcorn on his lips. 

you cup his jaw in your hand, your thumb wiping away at the bits of popcorn. he wordlessly accepts your question, his head nuzzling into your grasp. you pull him in, the taste of salt spreading across your mouth when you swipe your tongue along sohee’s lip. you're quickly able to take control of the kiss, one of your hands moving to the back of his head. 

he pushes into the kiss, his body moving forward. sohee's desperate in the way that he kisses, the passion is definitely there. you can tell he's been waiting for this moment with the way he's carrying himself at this point. 

your hand snakes into the hair on the back of his head, your fingers taking hold of the strands there. you pull him away from you, a smile creeping into your face at the way he whines at the feeling of you tugging at his scalp as well as the loss of your lips. 

at this point you're more into this idea than you thought you'd be. you don't yet let go of sohee's hair, your gaze trailing up anton's body until you meet his eyes, his stare filled with satisfaction. 

“should i let him fuck me ton? don't you think he's waited so long, so patiently?” your gaze falls back on sohee, his eyes are unconsciously pleading for you. you let go of his hair, your hand caressing his face again. 

anton nods at you with a shrug, “i mean, he won't be able to fill you up like i do. his cock is so tiny, don't know if he'll even be able to make you cum.” you notice the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips, his smile widening at the sound of sohee’s sad whines. 

“be nice ton! i'm sure he can make me feel good anyways, it's not always about size, right hee?” the boy nods eagerly, another whine leaving him at the nickname you call him. “i- i can do it! can make you feel so good!” he's both shy and desperate in the way he speaks to you, you're getting impossibly wetter by the second. 

anton chuckles to himself again, his hands moving to readjust himself, he's so hard by this point but he's holding himself off. 

he gets behind you once again, his hands grabbing onto the bottom of your top. he pulls it over your head, leaving you with your bra on. he tosses your top onto the table, his eyes staring at sohee. 

sohee, although still fully dressed, feels naked under both of your gaze. he'd never seen anton have this look in his eyes before. he focuses back on you and the way you're laid out before him. 

“go on hee, take my shorts off.” your gaze is heavy on sohee, performance anxiety slowly trickling in. you cuddle back into anton, fingers intertwining with his as they rest on your chest, your legs open in front of sohee. 

with a shaky hand, sohee reaches for the waistband of your pants. he looks so cute right now, shyly moving your shorts down your body. you lift up to help him take them off your legs, the piece of clothing falling to the floor.

sohee bites his lip at the sight of your glistening pussy, swallowing hard as if his mouth was watering over it. “can i.. can i taste you first?” his voice is small and shy, but his fingertips run along your thigh, making you breath out a small moan. anton snorts at this, already knowing how it’ll play out. he leisurely runs his free hand up and down your body.

you nod eagerly at his question, your hole clenching around nothing. sohee notices this as he adjusts his position, laying on his stomach in front of you. luckily the couch is a little bit longer but one of sohee's legs still hangs off the couch, the other resting against the cushion but he doesn't mind. 

you think he looks a little silly but don't pay it much mind, finding him too pitiful to laugh. his thumb shyly runs up your slit, his big eyes looking into yours for a second. he smiles to himself, his excitement evident. 

although he asked to taste you, he actually wasn't too sure what to do, he tried to recall what he'd seen in porn videos but his mind was blank. anton noticed this and he smiled about it a little. 

“you don't even know what to do, huh?” anton knows sohee lacks experience, technically he’s not a virgin, he did have sex once before but it wasn’t much to talk about. sohee shakes his head, his facial expression making you pout at him. 

“do what feels right, me and ton will help you, okay?” you try to reassure him, giving him as much encouragement as you could. anton rolls his eyes slightly at the fact that he was volunteered but he agrees with you anyways. 

sohee musters up the courage to do something, his lips nibbling at the skin of your thigh gently. he places small kisses along your skin, his lips finally resting on your clit. you're full of anticipation, wondering what he'd do next.

a confused expression plays on your face, the movement sohee's doing with his mouth feels strange and unfamiliar. you try to decipher what doesn’t feel right, “think you’re using too much lip sohee, use your tongue.” 

he lifts his head again and nods, eager to learn from you. he sticks his tongue out, dragging it along your pussy, you suck in a breath at this, nodding to sohee. “there you go, such a good boy. anton struggled with this a bit too when we first got together.” your words encouraged sohee but were a bit of a blow to anton. sohee snickered quietly at this, noticing the way anton looked a little annoyed.

his nerves start to subside by this point, allowing him to think a little clearer. the tip of his tongue drew circles on your clit, earning a moan from you. your noises made him more confident, encouraging him to try new things. he sucks on your clit now, finding out what you like each time. 

“such a quick learner, sohee..” the soft praises that fell from your lips got him more riled up than before. you noticed his hips begin to rut into the couch as he ate you out. your hips rolled against his tongue, sohee’s whines vibrating against you. 

anton has his hands in your bra, his fingers playing with your nipples. “gonna cum y/n?” you moan in response to anton's question, your head nodding quickly. anton's fingers pinch at your sensitive buds, adding to the overall feeling. 

sohee humps the couch, his orgasm building up too quickly for him to keep up with. you moan out, your hips stuttering against his tongue. 

he slurps up your juices, his hips stilling too early as he cums in his pants. a frustrated sigh falls from sohee's lips as he accidentally ruins his own orgasm, still painfully hard. 

you sit up after this, eyes locking with sohee's, “want you to fuck me hee, wanna see what you got.” sohee's mind is cloudy, his body moving quicker than his mind can. he stands up off the couch, removing his shirt before running his hands through his hair. 

you move to help sohee out, your hands eagerly untying his pajama pants. when his pants fall down you're immediately met with the sight of his red, dripping, cock and it makes you smile up at him. 

“no underwear? must've been so eager..” you grab his length in your hand, the size easily fitting in your grasp. 

you look at it like you're investigating something, “did you cum in your pants baby?” sohee nods, suddenly feeling embarrassed again but you praise him instead, telling him how cute he is. 

you lay flat on your back now, inviting sohee between your legs again. anton is standing again, now removing his own clothes 

sohee hovers over you, one arm hooking under your leg. your hand caresses his cheek again, “fuck me pretty boy.” 

he presses into you, his hips quickly becoming flush with yours. he leans down on his elbow, his face close to yours as his hips begin to rut into yours. 

he wastes no time picking up a steady pace, his desperation taking over. his hips snap against you harshly, both of you moaning continuously.

you kiss sohee, eyes shutting tightly at the feeling of him. he's so caught up in the sensation, no thoughts in his mind right now. he feels his orgasm bud in his stomach, pulling away from the kiss. he nuzzled his face into your neck, his cum shooting into you.

“m’ sorry, so sorry!!” sohee's voice is apologetic and whiny as he speaks. you laugh quietly which catches sohee's attention, he slowly lifts his face to look at you. “it's okay, gorgeous, you're alright.” 

anton sighs, hand gently stroking his length in his grasp. he’s had enough of watching the two of you, this was his idea after all but the thought of you being left unsatisfied has him almost losing it. “let me show you how to really fuck her good.” 

he takes sohee’s place, positioning you with your ass in the air. its moments like this where you’re reminded how strong he is, the way he slightly lifts you by your hips. he spreads your pussy lips apart, the sight of sohee’s cum dripping out of you making his cock twitch.

“fuck..” anton’s big hands grip your ass cheeks firmly, just the feeling of his hands anywhere on your body makes you so needy. you reach for sohee, hands guiding him to the spot in front of you, where anton was sitting before. you grip onto sohee as you feel anton’s fingers dip into you again. sohee watches intently as anton pleases you.

the sound of your pussy rings in your ears, the slick squelching making excitement bubble in your stomach once again. anton rubs the tip of his cock against you, groaning at the feeling of you. he lines up with your opening, pressing his length into you. he slides in relatively easily because of how wet you are. you begin to feel full already, his full length not in you yet.

your hips push back on anton, moving side to side so he enters you fully. you moan at the feeling of him stretching you out. you lick your lips as you eye sohee’s smaller cock in front of you, red and leaking once again. your hand makes a fist on his length, pumping it once or twice in your grasp. sohee’s sensitive by this point, you can tell by the way his body shudders at the feeling of your hand on him.

anton's thrusts are rough and deep as he fucks into you, your body jolting forward with every hit. you muffle your moans on sohee's length, the tip of his cock tickling the back of your throat. 

sohee thrusts into your mouth as he chases his high, one hand in your hair, head thrown back in pleasure. 

your fingernails dig into the skin of sohee's hips as you feel anton repeatedly hit your sweet spot. anton smacks your ass persistently, the sting causing your eyes to roll back. 

you pull off of sohee's length, pumping him in your hand as you moan out. you come undone first, unable to catch your breath as anton continues thrusting into you. 

sohee cums next, his hand grasping onto your jaw so he can place your lips back on his tip, his cum shooting into your mouth. anton follows shortly after, his thrusts slowing down as you feel yourself being filled up once more. he slowly thrusts into you a few more times, his hands gripping you hard. 

when anton pulls out of you he admires your cunt, the sight of you dripping once again, this time with his cum makes him feel good. you hold sohee’s cum in your mouth, sitting up and turning to where they both can see you. anton loves to watch you swallow his seed so it only seems right for you to do it for the both of them. 

you open your mouth, showing the cum that pools on your tongue before you swallow it, sticking out your tongue to show them that you swallowed it. anton grins at you, kissing your cheek lovingly, “such a good girl.” 

sohee watches you, his feelings for you getting stronger, maybe he shouldn't have agreed to this after all, but he can’t go back now.

[neonbutchery]

400 FOLLOWERS MOD RAFFLE + FUNDRAISER

it happened a while ago but since i finally hit 400 followers here, i'm making a baldur's gate 3 mod raffle to celebrate! the winner will get either a custom head, hairstyle, or set of horns! you can see more of my mods and work on my nexusmods page.

TO ENTER:

follow me (new followers are welcome!)

REPLY to this post with anything (reblogs are very appreciated, but they don't count as entries! please reply if you want to enter!)

the raffle will close on april 15th, 2024, 11PM CEST, and the winners will be announced shortly after...

but there's more!

given current events, i want to do a small fundraiser for the palestinian children's relief fund, or pcrf. the raffle is completey free to enter, but donating $5 or more to its tiltify campaign will give you an extra entry! you can donate down below, please make sure to leave your tumblr url if you do.

for every $50 milestone we reach, i will draw one more winner! UPDATE 6/4/2024: since the donations gathered far surprassed what i thought we would raise, the total number of winners stops at FIVE, since i don't want to burn myself out. but the extra entries for donations are still up and running!

once again, entering the raffle is free; the donations are completely optional, and you will have a chance to get a prize regardless. feel free to dm me for any more questions!

[f1version]

( 💙 ) PROMPTS — request a driver + prompt from the following lists ( + idea extra, optional ) and i will write a small fic about it…

lewis + "am i your favorite?" "i like your dog a bit more than you, i won't lie."

ROSCOE AND VIVI ★ LH44

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem! dog mom! driver! reader

summary: You and Lewis fall in love during your dogs playdates.

word count: 681

notes: this was very sweet to write, just pure fluff about two dog parents in love. (readers dog name is vivi)

Lewis has never been a stranger, your lives connected by racing since you were young. Your karting careers took off at the same time, growing in different categories so then you’ll be reunited in Formula 1 in 2009, sharing the track once again. He had been there every step of the way, every win, every loss.

Lewis has never been a stranger, but he wasn't what you would call a close friend. You shared childhood and thousands of intertwined memories, but all of it led to nothing more than the acknowledgment of the other's presence, he was just a colleague. 

Was.

Months ago, over the winter break, you and Lewis locked eyes in a park, he was walking Roscoe, and you were walking Vivi, your dog. You greeted the other and started talking, updating the other on your lives, those you had never got to meet properly. It felt so natural, sharing and laughing together. A friendship was born that afternoon and not just between you.

Now, during breaks, you usually hang out at each other's houses, always a play date for Roscoe and Vivi. You wish it was also a you-and-Lewis date.

Today is one of those days. It's summer, Roscoe and Vivi play while you watch from the sofa on the terrace, your legs resting on Lewis's lap, his hand on the top of them as you talk about everything and nothing at all.

Lewis is talking about his schedule for after summer break when Roscoe and Vivi catch your eye, they are snuggling, Vivi licks Roscoe’s face a bit. You smile.

“Darlin’, are you listening to me? Y/n?” Lewis calls and you turn to him, he’s frowning, but his eyes are stars.

"I think Roscoe is Vivi's favorite playdate," you tell him, looking at the dogs. "She doesn't like to snuggle that much."

“Oh man, are our dogs in love?” Lewis jokes. 

“Maybe” you laugh it off.

“The cherry on top would be us being in love,” He says and you swear the world stops because you are holding your breath “I’m sorry I don’t know why I said that, I do find you attractive- Like, man, you are so beautiful but if you don’t want-”

And here's the thing, you do want, you want so much. These months of hanging out with him have felt like the stars led you home, crossing the toughest of oceans. You like him, so much there’s an agonizing pressure resting on your chest while he rambles. He likes you back. 

“Lewis” 

“-And now this may be so uncomfortable for you because I’m sure you hate it when this type of thing happens. I know. But-”

“Lewis shut up!” You yell for him as your hands find his face, cupping it “You’re overthinking, just breathe and say what you feel like. I’m not uncomfortable, trust me”

His eyes change and he lights up. “Oh god, you-” You nod and his mouth opens in surprise, he seems startled for a couple of seconds “I'm so sorry, give me a second, I’m trying to organize my thoughts”

“No need to be sorry… and I can help you, I think” you answer and take a deep breath “I like you too, so much”

“That’s- I- Fuck it. Can I kiss you?” He says cupping your face, gaining confidence.

“Of course, idiot” 

And his lips meet yours. Everything changes, the universe and its stars watching two constellations unite, giving life to something new. Lewis doesn't let go of your face, you don't let go of his, afraid that this will fade away.

As you part, your temples connect, smiling as if you just won your world championships all over again. 

He speaks first.

"So Roscoe is Vivi's favorite, but... am I your favorite?" A laugh escapes your lips at his question, you want to stay here forever.

"I like your dog a bit more than you, I won't lie"

"You will regret that," he says.

"How so, Hamilton?"

"Tickle attack!" He screams as he gets on top of you, drowning in your laugh.

Lewis has never been a stranger, but right now he was a new unknown, and you couldn’t wait to learn everything about it.

[cryrovo]

Hello again :) im the anon with idea for a request. What I had in mind was something a bit angsty with a *happy ending, of course, along the lines of reader who is pregnant and something happens to her that she gets hurt/injured and Gojo flips out. Nothing tooooo bad happens to the resder but she needs apecial care or extra attention after. Thank you again for accepting this a giving it a try💙💙💙 you are the best and can't wait to read whatever you put out next🤗🥺

“Toru im fine, really” it’s a phrase you catch yourself repeating too often as of late. But oh, you don’t think he actually believes you. Because every step you take, he’d be there, and in a way, he can’t bring himself to relax.

“I know, baby girl. I know,” he’d reassure, but do anything but leave you alone. And he’s got a nerve to call you ‘baby girl’ again, as if you were helpless. Well, in his eyes, you are.

You’ve got him kneeling at 7a.m to help you put on a pair of tights, gently rolling them up your calves, your heel resting on his thigh as he kisses your own, kneading your plump flesh while pulling the waist band over your overflowing belly until it’s safely secured in its place.

“I’m gonna crush you” you scoffed silently, masking your worry under a layer of annoyance as your brows furrow at his act of care.

“Nah” He actually enjoys it and you don’t know why, your weight must be heavy as you lean your whole body with your hands on his shoulders, but it’s never a problem “I’m the strongest, don’t you know it by now, pretty thing?”

Toothy grin send your way, so cocky it makes you roll your eyes. Sure, he is.

Getting ready to work is hard, especially 8 months pregnant. You could easily stop working, you should, but you never want to. It both worries and amuses Satoru to no end “are you sure you’ll be able to handle today?” asking almost sickeningly sweet, your husband couldn’t help himself from making sure, just one more time.

It makes your nose twitch in annoyance, brows scrunched as you let out a frustrated sigh “Yes, thank you very much” your response is nothing short of sarcastic but that didn’t do much to deter him from worrying “and I mean, I’ve been handling you, a literal man child since forever, so I think I’m fine dealing with a bunch of teenagers for a day”

He knows you're capable, but he's also aware of the newfound boundaries your pregnant body can't deal with. You're creating another life and in all of this he's got to be the one reminding you to take it easy.

Smirking, he continued adjusting your tights up, pausing for a brief moment to let the baby kick his hand. He loves your spunkiness, your determination. It reminds him of your high school days when you'd fight hell and back to prove your worth.

"I learned my lesson,” he replied lightly, that teasing glint back in his eyes, throwing a playful glance towards you before standing up, helping you find some stability. "You're damn stubborn, but that’s part of your charm I suppose."

You let him capture your lips in a soft kiss, thumbs absently rubbing circles on your cheeks, a gentle reassurance and encouragement etched in his gaze "just try to take it easy today. If possible, give me updates in between for a good measure, alright?”

Your gaze narrowed on his, but the corners of your mouth twitched up into a small smirk. With his help, you stood up straight and tall, teeth clicking together as you adjusted your clothing one last time.

"I can't promise anything” The warning is lighthearted, your palm patting his cheek before picking up your bag ready to leave, so there’s no more talking about it.

As you head out, his arms naturally circle around your waist, supporting your heavy body with an ease that only he can manage. A cute grunt escaped him, but his smile never falteres. “Well then,”

"You're gonna be late if we don't hurry," he mumbled against your ear, gently tugging the shirt to make sure everything was even.

"And when you’re at it,” Satoru said once you were hopping into the car, straightening up and gazing down at you, hands resting on your belly, caressing it gently, "don’t make me regret sending you off alone."

He really hopes you won’t. Your husband, always the busy, had a lot to do throughout the day, and you knew so.

Although frustrated he couldn’t accompany you to school every single day, it was something he had to make peace with.

In the end, he needed to accept that he couldn't hold you back. But that didn't mean he'd stop worrying about you.

In the breaks, Satoru caught himself checking his phone frequently, waiting for a buzz with a text from you. A small smile graced his lips, a bubble of joy filling his chest as he read the message: "Tea is good," along with a photo of a fancy cup

It was not much, just a small digit of information, but it helped ease his mind for a while. At least until he got not as pleasant phone call from Shoko, making him cut short his mission and rush back asap.

He could recall only glimpse of it. Accident. Infirmary. You.

He shouldn’t have let you go there. He fucking shouldn’t. Guilt eats at him with each step, heavy and ground, echoing through the small corridor. Anxiety chips at his sanity, bubbling along with frustration and worry; a mix of emotions Satoru isn’t good at surpassing.

The last time he’d seen you was at home, and he curses himself out for not making you stay, when you quite clearly shouldn’t even be near this damn building.

Satoru isn’t angry often, but when he is it’s undoubtedly a scary experience, and everyone knows so. He’s aware he’s projecting now, panicking and probably overreacting but how could he not?

You’re his wife, his love, the mother of his unborn child. Of course he’s crazy about your safety.

Hurried steps carried him closer to the three students sitting on the bench, all looking up the moment they heard him approach. Yuji was the first one to try and talk, but quite clearly, his teacher had none of it. “Sensei-“

“Silence.”Satoru glared at the trio, his eyes sharp and cold, demanding obedience through voice and sheer presence.

Finding his breath trembling with anger, a rarely shown emotion from him, he crouched in front of them, and even with eyes covered his frustration was palpable. "Didn’t I clearly say to keep an eye on her?"

Accepting nods from each of the first year's with their heads hung low in shame was still not enough to calm Satoru down "so why the hell didn't you?" he bellowed, snapping their heads up, the guilt in their eyes doing little to placate him.

"We thought she could handle herself” Megumi stuttered out, his voice barely above a whisper. It truly was a misfortune, if that makes it any better, and in this case it doesn't seem important; you are, and the thought of anything happening to you, unacceptable.

Satoru's eyes narrowed, taking in their pouty faces, looking like they had just seen a ghost. "You thought wrong" he spat, standing back up immediately, taking a step back.

"Whose idea was it?" his chest heaved, each breath an effort as he tried to calm his nerves, pushing his palms into fists. His hands trembled as if all of his anger and frustration were physically manifesting as is fearing the answer, although knowing well enough whose idea it was. He couldn’t even be mad at the kids for long, he firsthand experienced how stubborn you can be.

Surprisingly, all three stayed silent accept for murmurs of ‘we’re sorry’, not daring to look up and acknowledge his question. Still, by the looks they were sending one another, he by now figured it must have been you.

It warmed his heart a little, knowing how devoted they were to not snitch even in face of consequences. With a heavy sigh, Satoru rubbed his temples with his index finger and thumb, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

"Alright, we'll discuss this later," he said calmer than before, his voice laced with both resignation and acceptance. Turning on his heels, he started walking away, stopping short after a few steps.

“I’m going to deal with you three in a moment. Stay put” seeing his students so remorseful stilled his anger, forcing a deep breath out of him as he nodded for them to follow his orders.

The frustration he had moments ago dissipated, replaced by a heavier, more solemn feeling. He knew he shouldn't be mad at them, but the thought of you in danger because of your own stubbornness made him feel like he was suffocating.

Gathering his thoughts, Satoru headed toward the infirmary, the sight of you on one of beds meeting his gaze, talking casually with Shoko as if nothing happened- when it did.

Taking a moment to tone down on emotions before closing the door behind him, he made himself known, and from his face alone, it was obvious your husband was worried sick.

Your own face scrunched in an apologetic pout the moment you registered his familiar presence, and you even put on a sweet tone he knew you always used when you felt bad.

“Satoru, please don’t start...” of course you’d say that, he couldn’t help but scoff as he inched closer, watching as you put away the small container of fruits onto your belly- a comical sight, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to it now.

"Start? Start what?" He replied, glaring daggers at you, your pacifying actions seemingly going unnoticed.

“It was a misfortune-“

"A misfortune that led to you fainting. It’s not ‘nothing’, you’re pregnant for Christ's sake” his voice was unusually cold as he cut you off, but the underlying love and care for you shone through.

Despite feeling a pang in his chest, a sliver of guilt for the situation, he knew he couldn’t let it go, not today, not with you right in front of him and clearly went against his wishes when you were supposed to take it easy.

His voice was stern now, worried yet firm, his blindfold long pulled from his forehead to let his gaze search for answers in yours. He didn’t want to scold you, but he absolutely had to get to the bottom of this. Turning to Shoko, he let out an exaggerated sigh, his voice gravel as he spoke “Shoko, how is she?”

The woman hummed softly, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes before glancing at Satoru "Not as bad as before, except for some minor cramps from overexerting herself. Heart palpitation, it’s a good thing those kids brought her here. But please, she insists on going back to teach tomorrow."

Satoru's nostrils flared,m, shaking his head in disbelief. A nervous laugh escaped his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Absolutely not," he replied firmly, turning back to address you sternly. "You heard her. You're not going back tomorrow. You’re not coming back at all. I’m putting you on bed rest from now on"

You expected much, sure, but home jail? An exaggerated gasp left your mouth, hand reaching to squeeze his arm, a gesture of pleading and disapproval as you tugged on his sleeve, puppy eyes trying to guilt trip him into letting this go but the frown remained on his face. “b-but Toru-“

"No," this time, there was no place for discussion, his mind already set on things and completely convinced. "you stay home, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Satoru quickly raised a hand. "I don't want to hear it," he said decisively, already feeling a headache form from the nerves "How is it looking?”

“I’d prefer this cutie stay here for an observation, at least till tomorrow” the brunette’s words carried tingle of amusement seeing your face contract in betrayal as the two seemed to have a silently gang up on you “S-shoko!”

"It's settled then. I won't let you go anywhere,” he declared, turning to the woman. “Make sure you put your foot down if she tries to argue.”

"You really underestimate me don't you?" You retorted back, your voice rising slightly as you pointing an accusative finger at both of them. "I am fine, really! I've been through worse, remember?"

You placed a hand on your stomach, giving it a gentle pat as if trying to reassure yourself. "I promise, I promise I will be careful next time. Really, really!"

“No do, you’re staying.” Satoru once again, was quick to shush you down, taking a seat on a chair next to your bed, not stopping himself from feeling your stomach, as if to reassure himself you were once again safe and sound, like he wanted you to. “Now take care of those grapes, and I don’t want you leaving any behind”

Your eyes landed on Satoru's concerned expression, softness creeping into your voice, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for upsetting him.

After all, he was merely trying to protect you.

Defeated, you sighed softly and relented, a small frown tugging at your lips. Crossing your legs, you resulted in taking one of the fruits from the container, clicking your tongue in displeasure, but what could you do? It was quiet clear by now that you lost this argument.

“Fine then. I’ll be lying on the couch like the fat potato I am” you whined but frankly, today had just been wearing you out. Regardless, it was clear you understood why he was upset. It wasn’t common for you, but with your current state, it was due to accept the defeat as it was.

A small sigh you, and you found it all frustrating and sweet enough to just roll your eyes. “You're way too overprotective, you know that?”

Your smile softened when he laughed along, letting his hand rest on your knee. "you expect any less from me?" his gaze drifted towards you affectionately, the tension starting to dissipate, replaced by the usual comforting warmth you shared.

Taking a deep breath, Satoru’s worries seemed to calm. "I mean it though" he said it gently, trying not to scold, but inform. Seeing the examination records, the earlier imprints of distress and worry still evident in his eyes, Satoru tried to take a deep breath. "no more working for you, little lady"

You gave him a small nod, a sweet, apologetic smile brushing across your lips. He knew you'd be stubborn, always had been, but he also knew you'd try to make it up to him. And perhaps, to some, it was a surprising sight—the way you’d try to comfort him in this situation.

“You’re always worried” muttering softly, you laced your fingers with his in an attempt to take away his worry.

“I guess I am” humming softly, the anger he felt previously was distant now as he leaned closer, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, his hand sneaking teasingly towards your chest-

"you guys are gross" shouting from the other side of the room, Shoko’s voice broke you two off in an instant "either stop mingling in my infirmary or i'm banning your husband from visitng"

"hey, no fair-"

[slightlymediocree]

☆Update 2:☆

I remembered to take pics today! Sort of. Only after i had put away my machines and stuff...

Here are (most) of my edwardian undergarments

(i am wearing modern clothes under bcs the internet is weird)

Chemise, bustle pad, underbust corset, petticoat

I still need to make a corset cover someday, ive just been using a second thin chemise over all this:

I used these vintage buttons on the cuffs. I wanted some more security but ran out of buttons so i used small snaps:

Also put one on the collar so i could try it on. I think the placket at the back of the blouse is a little ugly and larger than ive seen in extant garments but i forgot to adjust the pattern for my broad shoulders and need the extra width for comfort.

I tried on the blouse and skirt together:

I may need to loosen the waistband of the skirt, the corset is a bit bulkier than i thought itd be. Also the blouse is just stuffed into the skirt and currently only has one closure on at the collar so it looks a little bit disproportionate. The belt/sash will help smooth everything out so i dont look like im drowning in voile.

I might go without the bustle pad during the final shoot because i think it gives too much volume in the waist/hip area for edwardian tastes. Its from an 1890s pattern, so the silhouette is a bit out of date. I should probably try the skirt on without the pad before extending the waistband though.

Im pretty happy with how the sleeves turned out! I have some vintage nottingham lace i bought on etsy from penelope textiles that i was going to add to another project. I think ill sew some different laces together and add it to the cuffs to elongate them a bit. Since this dress is supposed to be from roughly 1905, i want the sleeves to look as they wouldve in that time. The photos ive seen mostly feature large ruffles at the ends of elbow-length sleeves but i dont think ill be likely to wear ruffles very often. Ive also seen tighter cuffs that extend from the elbow to mid-forearm or from the elbow to wrist. I think the elbow-length sleeves are a feature of afternoon dresses but i could be wrong. Maybe that was just day dresses? Not sure.

Im also not sure if i want to get gloves/a hat/parasol for this project. On one hand, it would look really cool for the video. On the other hand, it sounds quite expensive and i doubt ill wear it again. I dont want to buy things i wont use and create waste, theres enough of that in fashion. I have a pink 1900s parasol that i might cover with black fabric, but idk.

There isnt much left to do! Im gonna make a list here so i have it written somewhere:

-sew snaps onto blouse

-finish blouse hem

-attatch lace cuffs

-press pleats on sash/belt

-order synthetic whalebones

-add bones, hook/bars to belt

This is just the sewing tasks though, i need to edit the video clips and record audio. I have no idea how to do any of this. I just downloaded davinci video editor so hopefully i can figure it out. The only experience i have with video making/editing was in 3rd grade on ipads on the imovie app. Ive just been binge watching bernadette banner videos bcs i love her video style.

Any tips/feedback are much appreciated! ♡

Date: 4/22/24

[yridenergyridenergy]

Is there a way to know if members are healthy and feeling well? Shinya's last video, he looked really really thin, the voice note on his last blog update felt sick and tired. The tour was very compact, the bus looked uncomfortable (for musicians over 45 years old, I mean, c'mon). They must be resting now, but I feel that their company is exhausting them for the sake of saving/gaining more money. I don't know if it's just me, and I'm worrying for no reason. Does the company even do routine check-ups on their health? Is it reasonable for us as fans to ask this to their management?

Shinya always has a particular voice, but I haven't heard that voice note that you mention. It's no news that Shinya is incredibly skinny, as even h.Naoto's assistant commented that he was the only one that she could wrap the dark tunic on at the smallest holes/size and she seemed surprised.

Traveling and being on a plane in general tends to make people sick, so if he did hit a bad patch, hopefully he is getting better now that he is back in Japan.

For Shinya, I have my own opinion, but at the end of the day, I'll trust that he is a midlife adult who must have at least learned how to manage maintaining that size in a sustainable way.

Nobody on the band has been outspoken about the downsides of touring overseas this year except Kyo, and I'm always baffled by how much Kyo is allowed to complain so publicly about his own management hah. Good for him, and I mean, he's an artist and their primary one when you think about it, so you can't really restrain him much.

It's difficult for me to form an opinion on the management's frugal tendencies when I don't actually see numbers. All I know is that Kyo is able to afford Gucci, expensive toys, etc. and when that impersonator was arrested, from what I understood, he assured us that he wouldn't have ever needed to ask for loans like that. Whatever sacrifices the band is making to apparently make touring abroad profitable at least translates into them being well paid, even if that's just from performing in Japan.

Money also may play only a small role into the decision to have them sleep on a bus and only carry one luggage each. Extra luggage would have to be checked in and could get lost. Checking into hotels, where fans are also staying, presents its own series of issues.

Either way, Kyo had mentioned going to see a doctor in a monthly birthday video on kyo-online (I won't give more details but it was a super minor issue, don't worry) and I think even in another type of content where it sounded more like a regular checkup.

Ultimately, they are adults, they're the main moneymakers fo sun-krad and I'm sure that they would be able to push back against at least future decisions if their health could be jeopardized in the long term. Kyo had mentioned in 2012-2013 that he had warned his management time and time again that the grueling schedule of their tours and shows would grind down his throat, so it was no surprise to him when it became so bad that he needed surgery and the band had to go on a hiatus. I'm sure that everyone learned from that, and Kyo's singing has been spot-on every time I have seen him since 2015 or so.

[suryp]

Date: unknown

Year: inconsequential

Region: central Tartyryn straight

The snow crunches beneath our feet, the wind howls like the devil, and while we all show fear, I've reason to think my brothers know not that we walk over a frozen sea, more than 30 metres deep with fish heavier than our entire platoon. I doubt my commander knows, either, but that suits our real mission just fine.

The mission. Ha. Everyone knows the only safe spots for a town are off shore, we've already done the math, there's nothing out here worth finding.

Good thing Commander Reijean is such a greedy fuck, then.

"HALT!"

Thats him right there. Most would say he just wants to prove himself, but I know better. All humans hide their worst traits, tone 'em down for the public. We're all worse than we seem on the outside.

"..."

"whats out their c-"

"shut your trap private, I won't have my skill split be-"

*Crack*

"Mission complete, I suppose"

In an instant, Clark pulled out the rifle on his back. it was cheap shit, like all the gear for this trip was, but He's among the best "weapons guys" I've ever met.

Fortunately, the gun jams, and he vanishes into the blizzard.

"Clark? Buddy? Clark? Clark!"

"Circular formation, weapons up, we are-"

"...Commander?"

Just a few more to go. Our platoon used to be larger, but wandering for days on end through an empty void of ice and snow will take its toll. Just a few weeks ago, we might've won this fight.

Good thing banshees are smart, then.

"SpLit up!"

"Commander?"

"Split Up!"

"h- He's right. we're no more than a larger target like this."

"Just gotta find the right time for it."

Sabotage wasn't the plan, and it leaves a bad taste, but there's nothing for it.

"Now."

"..."

"..."

*Cr'Ack*

"..."

*Crunch*

"..."

And finally, a blood curdling scream cut short, by a few extra holes in the lungs.

I stand up, spread my arms wide, and make myself the most clear and easy target I can."

-...-

Two hours later

The blizzard dies, I see my siblings dead in the snow. Three have a mulch of bone and Metal shards, alongside frozen blood, in place of their heads. Commander has a crushed neck. Charlie's kevlar is punched through, frozen blood all along his chest.

There's a sixth carcass, some ornitherian, I think, though it's hard to tell considering how much was eaten. The ribs are gone, and only Two and a half legs remain.

I begin to walk off. A meal, even the frozen remains of a hippogriff corpse, is the last thing I d-

*crunch*

"..."

"you not fight me. why?"

"..."

"all humans try to kill us. take sea from us. take tyk'yk from us."

"...take egg from us."

"..."

"you not fight. why?"

-

alright thats a wrap! The official intro to Fisher and the Flame and the world of... well, I suppose she doesn't have a real name yet but hey, we can make this work.

for a bit of context regarding appearances, if you need that, "Ornithere" and "Hippogriff" refer to pterosaurian animals, most similar to (and heavily based on) Trollman's "Cuvier's Isle" a small spec one-shot. It does not refer to the serinean animals of the same name.

Banshee are a bit easier to describe, being a rough combination of Utahraptor osstramaysi and a Leopard Seal, very similar to @tales-of-kaimere's *Updated* xuul design, along with the Adzakoordu and the White Cockatrice, as well as the Tamakai.

The narrator, Jake Fisher, is getting a drawing, by someone who appreciates men far more than I.

now go read about kaimere on Keenan Taylors twitter, bluesky, deviantart, and youtube channel, along with trollman's various sickass works on the same websites.

-

edits: minor word changes, removal of unneeded dashes, and Commander is now cishet, because killing the first queer confirmed in story feels a bit too rude.

Reijean is still his name tho, since there has to some reason this unit was sent out.

also added a new tag. sorry y'all.

(im just gonna use the most extreme and broad tags that, since im exceedingly apathetic but do want to tag things correctly)

[spicerackofblorbos]

Chapter 1: November

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, eventual smut (these update with every chapter)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! This is my first time writing fanfiction in a loooooong time, like the last time I wrote was probably in 2011. So with that said please be kind with any feedback or comments. I hope you enjoy! (also I made Hange's pronouns she/her/them/they)

Edit (11/27/2023): Hey guys, welcome to my little world of Unspoken Words. I have quite literally used this story as a way to better myself as a writer. As you read on, you may find that I've progressed (ofc I have a long way to go) but because of that, my first few chapters might be rough. With your patience, you may find a liking to this story as I know I've loved writing every word of it.

☾ word count ➼ ~7.1k

20-something years ago 

You’re not sure how, but you find yourself sitting in the back of a big, white van. Red and blue lights danced in your eyes, and it felt like a thousand people surrounded you. Something plastic is placed on your face then you are instructed to breathe in deeply. You thought it was funny to be told to breathe, like you don’t just do it naturally, but you follow instructions regardless. It’s hard though, every part of your body hurts, chest included. Every breath you take feels like your insides are on fire.  

‘Fire’, you think.  

Everything is on fire.

Present Day

Levi stood blank faced as he meticulously cleaned the blender station for what felt like the 100th time today. The late afternoon rush had just tapered down so he took advantage of the next to empty café to clean as much as he could before closing for the evening.  

“It’s 20 degrees outside, how are people still wanting frozen drinks.” he murmurs to himself, placing the blender back in its spot. Levi turns to the front counter and slings the towel he was using to dry things onto his shoulder.  

His best friend, roommate, and business partner could be seen restocking some books on tall shelves, a gentle smile lighting up his boyish features. It’s been about a year and a half since they started this business venture together and they had no idea at the time how successful their bookstore-café combo would be in this small town.  

Erwin’s thirst for knowledge kept their shelves as variable as ever while Levi’s love for perfecting the art of tea kept the drinks flowing. The problem, however, was Levi’s lack of people skills. He was seldom seen at the register, nor would you ever see him smile or talk to the customers. He often would leave you with a grunt and a swift turn after handing off the drinks.  

No, for that, they had hired a couple of local highschoolers to do the facing work.  

“Mr. Smith, Levi?” a soft voice rang out to the left of him. Levi shifted his attention to a taller girl with shoulder length raven hair standing next to him. Being as Mikasa is his cousin, they found early on how weird it was to be called ‘Mr. Ackerman’ as they shared the same surname. It was this connection too that got them to where they are today.  

“Would it be okay if Eren and I take off a little early tonight? We have some big tests coming up and we’d like to take some extra time to study.” Mikasa shifted her dark eyes to the darkening windows as the sun set just over the horizon. Pinks and oranges flooded the partially clouded skies.  

”Tch.” Levi could not help but roll his eyes. He raised a brow at her and leaned back against the counter behind him for support. “Sure, I guess,” he continues. “But do you really need it or is it for that blockhead?”  

As if summoned by his words, Eren comes up from behind Mikasa and wraps a red scarf around his girlfriend’s neck, both of their jackets hanging off one of his arms. Eren is a good kid, always on time and followed directions, but the amount of sass he held in his body was something else. Levi and Erwin did not mind though, as he added a certain energy in the café that the customers seemed to enjoy. The two men wouldn’t say it out loud, but they really appreciated having them both on the team.  

“Hey, I heard that. And yes, I need to study desperately. Econ is so hard and for what?!” Eren’s teal eyes widened for emphasis. To add to it he even put on a fake pout.  

“I-”  

“Just take the trash with you on the way out and you’re good to go.” Erwin piped up from behind a bookshelf.  

Mikasa nodded in acknowledgement towards the voice, a silent thank you. Like Levi, she was not one for many words. He once thought it was an Ackerman thing but then he thought back to his annoying uncle and changed his mind quickly.  

With that, she and Eren both untangled the aprons from their bodies, grabbed their belongings, and picked up the trash bags that were already taken out of the cans. They opted to leave through the back since the dumpsters were located that way. Again, Levi wouldn’t say it to anyone out loud, but he really did like those kids.  

Erwin could be heard stacking more books into the shelves which left Levi to polish the counters again. It was the last hour before they closed so it stayed quiet for the most part, only interrupted by the sounds of scuffling shoes and books being placed on hard surfaces. Light jazz filled the rest of the silence. Then the bell signifying new customers rang from the front.  

“Levi, can you grab that?”  

The raven-haired man just huffed in response then stepped over to the register. His eyes fell on two figures right in front of him. A frazzled brunette and... you.  

Due to the season, you are bundled up in a thick parka and knitted beanie. A big scarf wraps around your neck and face so that all Levi could see is your flushed cheeks and thick lashed eyes. Truthfully, you reminded him of a marshmallow.  

“What’ll it be?” he asks, deadpan. The brunette is the one to respond, the voice loud enough to make him wince.  

“Hmmm... well one English breakfast tea latte with lots of room for sugar aaaaand I’ll take a peppermint hot chocolate. Oh, and extra whip! We’ll drink it here.” She fished out a card with a dramatic thwip and handed it to Levi’s outstretched hand.  Their café is one of those where if you were to stay, they offered washable cup ware as to keep the prices down on disposable cups. Not to mention the lessened ‘environmental impact’ as Erwin would say.  

Levi glances at you before turning to make both orders. You give a small wave and smile a little, but he was already working quickly on the drinks. 

He went into autopilot as he steeped the tea and steamed the milk. He really appreciated customers that ordered anything outside of coffee, especially when it came to tea. It’s not that he hated coffee, though it’s not like he liked it either, but it just wasn’t his thing. Coffee offered a different kind of bitterness that he wasn’t very fond of. With extra whipped cream in one and extra space in the other, he whirled around to place the drinks on the counter.  

The one with glasses is the one that picks them up and they promptly walk in the direction of where you currently sit, one of the tables in the back corner by the window. You were stripped of your big parka and scarf, though the beanie stayed. Your eyes were wandering around the café in wonder, and Levi was pretty sure this had to be your first time here. But truthfully, he wouldn’t know, he didn’t make it his business to know his customers. That was Erwin’s and the kids’ job. 

“The shelves are full and I’m exhausted.” Erwin came around the counter with a couple of empty boxes in his arms, heading straight for the back to the dumpster. Levi stepped back and leaned against the counter once again, his own black tea that had steeped while making yours cradled in his fingertips. He kept looking at his only customers while he sipped the black liquid. The teacup almost slipped out of his grip as he saw you dumping a large amount of sugar into your cup.  

 There you sit, extremely focused on the cup in front of you and lips pressed together tightly, almost as if you were afraid you’d put in too much. The sight would have been funny if you hadn’t just ruined your entire tea, he thinks to himself. You smile to yourself in satisfaction and put the sugar jar back where it came from. While you stir the sweetener in gently, the brunette in front of you talks animatedly. Hands were flying everywhere, and Levi could practically feel the energy radiating from the corner of the room.  You were doing the same, silently laughing. 

Suddenly the front door flew open, the bell ringing loudly with it. Levi grits his teeth, steeling himself for yet another customer interaction. But his shoulders dropped in relief at the sight of only Carly, Erwin’s girlfriend. She saunters up to the counter with a big smile aimed towards Levi and without even asking she slid behind the bar. Erwin had already made it from the back and was in the process of putting away the leftover ingredients from the day. Carly wraps her arms around her boyfriend and plants a big kiss on his face, to which Levi quickly looks away. It wasn’t weird for her to come in right as they were about to close.  

What was weird, he thought, was the shock that flooded your face as you eyed the very public display of affection. Levi knit his brows in confusion as the brunette pivoted in her seat to see what you were staring at. Their face fell, any evidence of a good time completely erased.  

“Carly?”  

The person in question whipped around so fast at the voice and the panic that exuded from her was palpable. She quickly unwrapped herself from Erwin’s embrace.  

“Hange.”  

If it wasn’t for the jazz in the background, the lengthy silence that followed would have been deathly.  

Carly clears her throat and laughs awkwardly.  

“Uh, why are you here?”  

The person named Hange just lifts their hot chocolate cup awkwardly, not really saying anything. Their eyes shift between Carly and Erwin, clearly understanding what had happened.  

“I-I’m sorry, you guys know each other?” Erwin sounds cautious, like he already knew the answer. Of course, he would, he isn’t dumb. His piercing blue eyes survey the situation, going back and forth between the two.  

“Well, uh. I-” Carly stutters, clearly at a loss of what to say in the predicament she found herself in.  

“She’s my girlfriend.” Hange claims calmly.  

This admission makes Erwin sigh heavily, confirming what he had pieced together. Levi stared at him in bewilderment as the man just chuckled quietly.  

“Well. I suppose that’s it then.” And with that he turns on his heel and stalks off to the back room. 

“Wait, Erwin I can explain!” She follows right on his heels and disappears into the back room as well. A minute later you can hear hysterical crying and calm retorts reverberating from the back. If Levi could shrink into the cabinets to get out of this situation, he would. Instead, he focuses on the other party who were having a very quiet and rushed discussion. Well, a one-sided discussion, as he only heard one voice.  

Levi, realizing it was almost time to close anyways, rushes to close the distance between him and the front door. He really did not want to have to deal with other customers while the drama unfurled. So, he flips the door sign to ‘Closed’ and unplugs the ‘Open’ neon sign hanging in the window. A couple walks by about to open the door, probably out for a café date from the looks of it. But they were only met with a dead stare from the sharpest eyes they’d ever seen. With that, they briskly turned around and left down the sidewalk.  

Levi spins around and from here he gets a better look at the two trapped customers. You were moving your hands all over the place like you were earlier. But with an even closer look he realizes you weren’t just talking animatedly with your hands; you were talking with them. You were signing. 

You reacted to your partner’s conversation just fine, so it was clear you had some sort of hearing. Your scarf now hung loose around your shoulders, and it looked like you had tears brimming in your eyes. Levi swiftly walks back to the counter; this is obviously not a conversation he needed to be a part of.

“Hey, don’t worry about me. It’s only been a couple of months. Really, it’s better to find out now than 3 years from now.” They laughed without humor. You know when Hange was saving face for your sake, she was never as sly as she thought she was.  

‘You don’t need to be strong right now.’ You sign then reach your hand out to touch her cheek softly. Physical touch had become your second language early on, if only to emphasize. Fortunately, Hange was okay with that and often embraced it with open arms.  

“I know, my little strawberry. I just need some time to process everything.” They pat you on the head lightly with a small grin. You swat their hands, blushing at the nickname you were so graciously given so many years ago.  But you nod back, knowing they would not change their mind.  

The tall blonde glides through the back door, alone. His face was grim as he tugged loose the tie around his neck.  

“Hange, was it?” He started walking towards you and your very startled sister.  

“U-uh yeah. That’s my name! Listen I had no idea, I’m so sorry. I would have said something obviously but-”, they take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”  

“Erwin Smith. There is nothing to apologize for as I can only assume there’s only one blame to be given. I hate that we must meet under such a circumstance, but it is truly nice to meet you.” He raises a hand waiting for a handshake.  

Hange takes it after a second of processing, shaking the hand vigorously with both hands.  

“Well, unfortunately it is what it is. I’m sure Carly and I will be speaking soon. I’m assuming she’s not just hiding back there.” They flick their gaze to the back door he had just come through.  

“Ah well, yes. Long gone... how long were you two...?”  

“Only like, 3 months or so. You?” 

He flinched at that and murmured, “3 Years.” 

Thinking back to her comment not 10 minutes ago, Hange bit their cheek.  

“Oh man I’m so sorry.”  

“No, please. It’s alright. None of this is yours or my fault. We couldn’t have known, but now we do.” Erwin chuckled to himself. You wonder if he’s trying to save face the way your sister did. His gaze now shifts to you. He is a very handsome man. To your extreme surprise, he starts signing to you. 

‘I'm sorry, who might you be? I noticed you signing earlier. I know a little from the books I have read.’ His crystal blue eyes sparkle at you as he signs. You can’t help but break out into a huge grin. You sign your name back and compliment him on his raw signing form.  

‘I am of hearing, though. So please feel free to talk, and I will sign back.’ You clarify to Erwin, the smile not falling from your face.  

“That sounds like a plan. Levi, stop hiding behind the counter and come say hi.” Erwin calls out, not bothering to look over his shoulder. You hear a grunt in response and not 10 seconds later, the barista stands cross armed next Erwin. He nods a hello to each of you.  

You knew he was shorter than you, at least a couple inches, based off the interaction at the counter earlier. But seeing him side by side with his friend was almost comical. But as short stature as he was, it did not keep him from holding himself with such authority. It made you nervous.  

‘Thank you for the tea, it was very good.’ You sign, your sister translating in real time for you.  

“Tch, are you sure? I saw you dump enough sugar in it to make it syrup.” Levi retorts dryly.  

That makes you smile sheepishly. His fixated stare unnerved you a little, but you stare back regardless. Now that he was closer, a glass case no longer between the both of you, your eyes traveled along his face in close inspection. 

He’s beautiful, you think to yourself. His features are sharp and angled. Steely gray eyes pronounced a permanent exhausted look. It was a shade of gray you’ve never seen before, and they were mesmerizing. As if he could feel you staring holes in his face, he flicks his eyes to the side, clearly uncomfortable. But you can’t help it, because really the most intriguing thing about him was not his metallic eyes. It was the scars that marred his porcelain skin.  

A couple of scars ran down the right side of his face. The prominent of the two trailed from the top right of his forehead all the way down to his chin, cutting into his right eye and both lips. You’re pretty sure his eye was quite damaged due to the slight muted discoloration of the eye color.  

He’s beautiful, you repeat to yourself. You glance over to Hange, and they just look over at you with a knowing look. You know she was just begging to ask Levi too, but she just shakes her head. So, you fold your hands together and pinch your lips together.  

“Well!” Hange yells out, breaking the silence. “This human really needs a drink. Let’s all go! Erwin, I demand you let me treat you to a couple drinks!” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and laughs.  

“A drink sounds fantastic; I will gladly take you up on that offer. Let me just close up rea-” He’s cut off by Levi raising both of his hands up in protest. You notice the two missing fingers on his right hand. The pointer and middle were gone. Whatever this man went through, you just had to know. But you toss those questions onto an ever-growing pile and bite your cheek.  

“Erwin, I can close up. You go ahead.” Your sister just smiles widely and practically jumped up and down. The blonde man just clapped his hand Levi’s shoulder and smiled at him.  

“Thank you. You’ll join us after? The usual place?” Levi just shrugs his shoulders in response.  

Part of you hoped he would. You couldn’t place a singular reason why though.  

.

Fifteen minutes later, the three of you found yourselves in a well-lit and very crowded bar. Somehow Erwin had snagged a table near the back wall. Heavy rock blares loudly from a live band maybe 20 feet away. Overwhelming was an understatement, but you grit your teeth and sit down on one of the stools.  

“Whatcha want, my darlings?!” Hange yells over the music, slapping both hands down on the table and staring at the both of you.  

“Whiskey neat, whatever they offer is fine.”  

You sign the words ‘apple’ and ‘juice’ followed by a ‘thank you’. You’ve never been one for a drink. While it was tolerable to be around, you’d rather not have to taste it if you could help it.  

Looking around, you see all manners of people surrounding you. Something about it makes your stomach turn but you shift in your seat to quell it down. You’re sure it’s only so crowded because of the prospect of a Friday night and the promise of no plans the following day. The town of Jinae was not anything special, but it was quaint. You and your sister found out quickly it was a place where everyone knew mostly everyone. After only settling down here from your hometown 5 months ago, you were still learning of all the local spots.  

From the looks of it, this bar was one of those. “The Scouts” was an inviting place, decorated with dark greens and wood tones. The walls were littered with many frames of a lot of different people. You imagine it might have been local residents in various locations of the town. All of the wood was worn down, so it was clear this place has been in business for a while. A neon sign hangs above the stage where the live band played, something that resembled blue and white wings. It makes you wonder what the significance is.  

Your thoughts are disturbed as a glass is placed in front of you. Realizing the dryness in your throat, you pick up the glass and take a big swig of the amber liquid. You’re met with a burning sensation, and you gag. This alerts Hange of the unfortunate mistake.  

“Ah I’m sorry my little strawberry!! They do look quite similar though, don’t they?” They switch the glasses quickly and laugh. You notice the very noticeable cup size differences between the two and you stare at her quizzically. “I may have taken a shot while at the bar, sorry.” she adds on. It makes you shake your head, but you grab her hand reassuringly and chuckle.  

‘I’m sorry.’ You sign at Erwin, and he just smiles back.  

“Not a problem. But I have to ask, how was it?” A bushy eyebrow raises at you in amusement.  

You just stick your tongue out and make a gagging gesture at him. You laugh though, not really upset.  

Two apple juices in, the live band ends. Hange and Erwin are very deep in conversation, which you suspect might be about Carly. You can’t really hear what’s being said though. With the absence of music, chatter quickly fills the air. Honestly it was really starting to get to you. So, after tapping on the pair’s shoulders and signing where you were going, you find yourself leaning over the guard rail just outside the bar’s door.  

The sun was already far gone. A crescent moon sits high in the sky and a smatter of stars surrounds it. The cold air felt very welcome on your very flushed face. You exhale a big sigh, which garners a puff of steam. It makes you laugh so you do it again. Then you start to wonder how long you might be able to last out here before getting frostbite when suddenly a body starts leaning against the rail next to you.  

With a start, you whip your head to face the newcomer. Instantly you relax at the sight of Erwin’s friend. He was adorned in a big peacoat and his casual slacks. A tan turtleneck sweater peaks out from the jacket’s collar. His face was flushed as well, no doubt from the cold.  

Levi. 

He wasn’t paying you any mind though, instead his gaze laid upon the sky above, at the stars. You wave at him anyways and offer a small smile. He glances at you with a side eye and returns a curt nod.  

Not one for words. 

So, you both stand there in silence, staring up at the twinkling lights above. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. Something about his presence radiated a sort of calm, and you were happy to bask in it.  

After a few minutes, he shifts his weight in your direction, so you face him. He’s staring up at you and it makes you swallow hard. His eyes glowed silver from the moonlight. Truly you have never been this fascinated with a person until now.  

“You like the stars.” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement.  

You nod in agreement, smiling to emphasize your love for them. He purses his lips at that. It seemed as if he wanted to say something else to that, but nothing came out. It just makes you frown a bit. You just have more questions that keep piling up. Everything about him just emanated mystery and it made you want to know all about him.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to him, exaggerating your frown to show your concern. You’re only met with a look of confusion. You forget that he does not know much if any sign. And you kick yourself for leaving your communication tools at home. To be fair though, this is not where you expected to be tonight.  

You then get an idea to use your phone to type to him but before you even reach into your pocket, you’re interrupted by a sudden blast of warm air as a couple stumbles out of the bar, both in a giggling fit as they cling to each other. They take off down the road, laughing even harder. The brief warm air makes you shiver, reminding you of the cold outside.  

As if thinking the same thing, Levi catches the door before it closes and holds it open for the both of you. You’re suddenly well aware of the very loud singing happening from within and your eyes widen at the familiarity of one of the voices. You and Levi make your way to the voices and are greeted with the sight of Erwin and Hange duetting a Backstreet Boys song.  

What a sight it was. The tall brunette, face flushed and glasses askew, had their arm around Erwin. He his blonde hair was quite tousled, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. They both swayed together as they belted out the lyrics. As if their smiles were contagious, you felt yourself grin. It was kind of cute. So, you pull out your phone and snap a quick picture, sure to show Hange in the morning. It was a good thing too, because the song ends right as you put your phone away in your bag. Levi clicks his tongue and huffs. You glance over at the noise and notice a small upturn to the corner of his scarred mouth. Noticing your gaze, his face vacates itself from any emotion as he stares back ahead.  

“Oi! Eyebrows!” He calls out to his friend. Levi starts making his way to the stage, walking with a slight limp. Yet another question to add onto the pile. “I’m gone for 45 minutes and you’re already singing.”  

“I’m fine! Just a couple drinks in.”  

You all make your way to the table you had laid claim to earlier. You survey the table and count at least 6 more glasses, not counting your two. It was hard to see who drank what.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to your sister, concern etched on your face. They just nod lazily and give a thumbs up with both hands. Levi is regarding you with a look of understanding, and it seems he realized that you had asked him outside.  Music starts playing over the speakers again, and people start making their way to the dance floor. Hange squeals and downs the rest of her drink quickly.  

“Erwin let’s go!” She grabs his arm, not waiting for a response. He gives a mock salute to the two of you and follows without question. Levi just clicks his tongue again and heads to the bar to get himself something. So, you plop yourself down on the stool and stare out into the room. Out of nervous habit you start fidgeting with the napkins in front of you. A moment later, Levi’s hobbling over with a tray of drinks. 

“I got the idiots some water, they look like they need it.” He places the glasses down with a thud, including one of his own housing some sort of caramel liquid. Then he’s sliding something over to you and you’re about to protest that you don’t drink but you realize it’s not a glass. It’s a notepad and pen.  

“If you need something, this might come in handy.” is all he says.  

You’re quick to show your appreciation with a bright smile. You also note to yourself that you could have very well have used your phone to communicate but you were not one to disregard someone’s thoughtfulness. It makes something bloom in your chest, warm and comforting.  

Your many years of not having a phone of course meant writing – a lot. Your handwriting evolved plenty with time so that meant it was extremely neat. It had to have been so that the reader would be able to read it without an issue. 

First you write your name, as you realize no one had really said it out loud while at the teashop. Following that you add ‘I think your shop is wonderful, and I really did enjoy the tea you made.’ You also want to jot down the questions from earlier that were still swimming in your mind, but you hold yourself back. You tell yourself maybe later, granted if there would even be a later.   

When angling the paper so he could see it, his eyes flit across the words quickly and you’re given a grunt in acknowledgement. Pulling back the notepad, you bite the inside of your cheek. While it wasn’t awkward being next to him, he sure made it hard to talk to. His cold demeanor gave you the feeling he wasn’t the type to talk about himself, especially with someone he just met. So, asking questions about him or his life was out the window. Likewise, he did not really seem interested in hearing your life story, not like you were planning to spill it anyways for fear of being met with disdain. You had plenty of experiences with that growing up.  

Tapping the pen against your chin, your eyes drift around the bar room. There a multitude of people lingering about, shouting over each other to be heard. A couple sits in a corner, whispering who knows what to each other. Both of their cheeks are flushed and eyes heavy with lust. A handful of people are on the dance floor grinding away, your sister and new friend sticking out like a sore thumb as they dance with reckless abandon. All of this gave you an idea, remembering something you’ve read before many moons ago. You start scrawling on the paper again.  

‘Are you a gambling man, Levi?’ 

You shift the pad back over to him and he glances down again after taking another sip of his spirit. He was holding his glass in a way you’d never seen before and honestly it was a little weird.  

“Tch, hardly. Why do you ask?” He looks hard at you as you scratch something else down.  

‘I propose a game to pass the time. Let’s make some bets about the random people in this room.’ 

He looks at you incredulously. You stand your ground, not averting your gaze even a little. When you don’t back down, he just scoffs and shakes his head at you.  

“I literally could not care less about these people,” he clicks his tongue. “But I suppose there’s not much else to do so I’ll bite.” Knocking back the rest of his drink, he moves around you to lean back against the wall so that he is facing the rest of the crowd. You shift so that you are doing the same. You don’t overlook the proximity to the shorter man, nor the fact that your arms are almost touching. You start to scribble once more.  

‘Winner gets to ask the loser one question.’ As his eyes fall on your words, he seems a little taken aback. Levi seems to think for a moment, like he’s weighing his pros and cons.  

“One non-personal question.” He amends. You both nod in agreement. So, your eyes travel around the room, looking for your first target. It falls on a group not so far away.  

‘I bet that gaggle of young girls over there are here for a bridal party.’

You point in the direction of the said group. Currently they were taking tequila shots, lime and all. All of them sparkled and were dressed up to the nines, save for the silly little hats adorning their heads. And they were having so much fun.  

“No way,” Levi scoffs, “That has to be a 21st birthday. They all look like babies.”  

Suddenly someone comes through a parting in the crowd with a tray of assorted colorful drinks garnished with cute little accessories. They all yell in excitement at the sight. One of the girls raises her glass and starts shouting.  

“To Estelle! May your married life be full of infinite love, happiness, and orgasms!” They all cheer and take big gulps of their drinks, followed by more giggling.  

Levi glances art you, his gray eyes dull in the dim bar light. An eyebrow lifts at you as well.  

“How did you know?” 

You do a sweeping gesture starting from one shoulder down to the opposite hip. He looks back over to the women and conveniently the soon-to-be-bride had faced your direction. She was indeed wearing a white sash sporting the word ‘BRIDE’ in bright pink letters. He huffs as he rolls his eyes, and you smirk at him in return. You press the pad over to him, already equipped with your question.  

Levi scoffs at your question. As promised, it wasn’t very personal. You figured ice breaker like questions were a good start. But his pause made you question if this was a good idea, you didn’t want to run him off or make him uncomfortable. Then he clicks his tongue, and his face softens ever so slightly.  

“My favorite hobby, huh? It would have to be cleaning.” He simply states. 

Cleaning?  

‘Like mopping, dusting, all that jazz?’  

“Yeah, it brings me peace. I like the control. Plus, I can't stand filthy things, people, or places. It’s repugnant.” He scrunches his nose at the last statement. A laugh bubbles up and you can’t help but let it loose. You’re shot with a glare and a sharp tone.  

“Funny?”  

You shake your head no and smile lightly while your hands move adeptly on the pad.  

‘Not funny, just amusing because it’s not something I would have expected. It’s different. If it makes you happy then it is an admirable hobby.’ 

Levi’s looking away from you now. If it wasn’t so dim, you would have seen there was a light dusting of pink color his cheeks and ears. He clears his throat and scans the room for his victim. His eyes land on the couple in the back corner whispering to each other. He notices their not-so-subtle hand movements as they felt each other up. Nodding in their direction, he looks back over to you, leaning close so you can hear.  

“I bet that couple will get up in the next 3 minutes and excuse themselves to somewhere private.” Your eyes travel in that direction, only to look away hastily at such an intimate scene. You’re not able to think of a counter-bet because honestly, you’re thinking the same thing. Your eyes settle back to his face, but he’s already looking back at the couple. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say. Suddenly his face is filled with a satisfied look, only to be replaced quickly with a look of horror. You follow his gaze again, afraid of what you might see.

Fortunately, it’s nothing risqué, as you catch the tail end of the couple slipping into one of the public, unmarked restrooms. But the thought of their future actions was enough to gross you out. Looking back at Levi, you scrunch your face up in disgust. He nods in understanding.  

“This is why we don’t use public restrooms, especially in a bar.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his good hand. “When I said somewhere private, I meant like a residence or something. Filthy animals, unbelievable. They better scrub that bathroom down. Maybe I should tell the bartender when they’re done. Maybe I should help clean.” 

His retorts crack you up, your shoulders bouncing from silent laughter. He just stares at you impassively as he runs his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face.  

“Well, it’s not like we should ruin their fun. Anyways I suppose I won. Let’s see... what’s your favorite color?” 

You part your lips, dumbfounded. This was never an easy question, as you found joy in a lot of different colors. You bite your lip and start writing, but after a couple minutes Levi rips the pad from your hands out of impatience.  

salmon 

turquoise? 

canary yellow! 

orange 

dark forest gre- 

He just looks at you in alarm.  

“Just pick one.” he scolds. 

You snatch the pad back and scribble down, ‘It’s not that simple!’  

“It is to me. White, easy.” You just stare right back at him, not believing what you just heard. Out of all the many shades and hues out there, this man decides the color white.  

‘Why?’ 

“It’s clean.” is the only response you get.  

It makes sense, you think. But seriously, this man was so weird. But like you said earlier, it was different and that made it refreshing to you. You start searching for your next bet.  

As if in a scene from a movie you’ve seen a dozen times came to life, your eyes snap to a lone woman sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and playing on her phone. A couple seats down, you spot a few men chatting. One of the men is staring hard at the very oblivious woman. You nudge Levi with your elbow, not unnoticing the slight flinch from your touch. You point to the scene, and he is quick to understand.  

“I bet when he walks over to her, she’ll get up and leave.” He says confidently.  

Trusting your instincts, you scrawl back quickly as you notice the man started making his way towards the woman. Sticking your tongue out at him, you angle the pad to him so he could see.  

‘Absolutely not. She’ll tell him off right away.’  

To both yours and his surprise, not one moment later she throws the rest of her drink contents onto the man’s head. She gathers her belongings, throws a wad of bills on to the bar, then stomps out of the establishment. The rejected man staggers back to his friends, and they applaud him for his supposed gall. This event left you both stunned. There’s a moment of pause where you and Levi just stare at each other before all hell breaks loose as he starts talking and you start scribbling furiously.  

“She walked away, I win.”  

‘She threw that drink on him, that’s practically telling him off. And that happened before any walking off.’  

“That hardly counts, no words were used.” He scoffs and folds his arms across his chest as he stares hard at you. You weren’t sure if the indignation was real or not, but it was evident in his face.   

‘Words are not always needed to convey intent.’ You shoot back at him, shifting your weight to tap your foot defiantly. You would know this of course.  

This makes Levi pause. He opens his mouth to say something but then Erwin and Hange came crashing into the little bubble you two had made. Suddenly the sounds of clinking glasses and mindless chatter came rushing in and you took a step back.  

“Um, I think Hange might have had a little too much tonight.” Erwin says, to which your attention is drawn to a very drunk Hange. They were a blubbering, sobbing mess. Whining about things that ranged from Carly to her work stress and everything in between. Your sister rarely got this drunk, but you imagine the events from earlier might have been her breaking point. This was a sign to get her home.  

You hastily round the table to wrap her arm around you and prop her up. Then after whipping a $20 out of your purse and throwing it on the table in front of the boys, you give them a grateful smile and sign to Erwin.  

‘Thank you both for tonight. She and I had a lot of fun. But I need to get her home before she gets worse.’ As if on cue, they let out a loud wail and start sobbing into your shoulder. You shift your body to hold them closer so that you don’t drop them. Erwin grabs your $20 and shoves it back in your purse before zipping it up. He had left you no time to protest as he places a large hand on your shoulder and stares intensely at you.  

“Please, let me take care of this. Tell them this was an exceptional time. And to please stop by the café again, we owe each a good, sober talk.” His bright blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you warmly. “It was a pleasure meeting you too. I hope you join Hange on the café visits as well. I think Levi has warmed up to you just nicely.” He wiggles an eyebrow at his friend. Levi just shoves him back and rolls his eyes.  

“Tch, fuck off. She’s alright, I guess.” He’s staring at you now, not as cold as before. “You owe me an answer next time we meet.”  

You purse your lips at him and shake your head in disagreement. 

‘I totally won that, don’t even think otherwise.’ You jot down lazily on the notepad still on the table. It wasn’t as neat, but you were propping up a whole human, you couldn’t help it.   

“Are you sure you’re safe to get home okay? We can he-” You cut Erwin off with a wave of the hand. Their spot of choice was actually very lucky, as you only live a few minutes away. And to be honest, you needed the cold air. So, you sign a quick goodbye to your new friends and make your way out. 

Walking down the snowy sidewalk, you pat Hange’s head as she grumbles about random things. She opted to walk herself, but you kept your hand in theirs to lead them in the right direction. She only stumbled a few times but overall, you were able to keep a steady pace. You note that before you left, her glass of water had been untouched, so you make a mental reminder to hydrate her before throwing her in bed.  

‘Alcohol was not kind to those in their 30s’ you heard their voice say in the back of your mind.  

As your steps left crunching noises in their wake, you peer up at the moon and glittering stars. A certain raven-haired and silver-eyed man etched in your brain. You wonder how soon it will be before seeing him again.  

‘Levi’ you sign to yourself with a free hand. A smile cemented to your face the whole way home.

☾ Next Chapter: December

[genericpuff]

Have you heard of the Canvas Age Rating Self Assessment thing? What are your thoughts on it?

I think it'll at least be helpful to help discern which series are for which age groups, but it's not necessarily going to change WT's moderation policies (which I will say from experience, seem to vary purely on the basis of which moderator spots the offense, some are willing to look the other way, others sound the alarms over stuff as inane as a buttcrack lmao)

plus I don't think a lot of creators are aware that whatever rating they get will bar those who don't meet the qualifications of that rating. There are already people getting YA / M ratings over things that aren't necessarily that obscene and subsequently losing portions of their audience who can no longer access it.

All that's to say, I think it's a good system in theory, WT's has been in desperate need of proper ratings for a long time now, but it undoubtedly still needs tweaking.

That said, I'm also not the best person to ask for an opinion on this as I've stopped updating works on WT. The stuff I do have on there now have ratings (both rated M which is hilarious because it's barely any worse than Naruto or Bleach half the time), but I haven't updated anything since before the rating system and I have a very small readerbase so it's really not affecting any of my own experience, I don't think anyone's been explicitly banned from reading my work on there as a result of it (and I mirror it on other sites anyways).

So yeah, not much to say on it for now, it did seem to be kind of buggy in the beginning with what ratings it dished out over which specifications, but I believe that's been adjusted/fixed and it's more accurate now. It doesn't necessarily mean people can post ToS-breaking content - and it's not gonna stop the NSFW Patreon farmers from exploiting loopholes in the ToS - but it at least creates an extra barrier of plausible deniability both for the platform and its creators - meaning, it's not a perfect system that will stop underage readers from accessible explicit content (or bot accounts from spam-posting NSFW ads as comics) but as far as I can tell it works fine as a rudimentary "dead dove do not eat" filter which is pretty much all it's designed for.

Overall, no real complaints here, just a feature that will hopefully benefit creators going forward in properly labelling and advertising their series. What Webtoons really needs is a better filtering system so users can opt out or into specific age ratings / genres / tags / etc. But that's a whole other can of worms that WT's doesn't seem to be prioritizing and is easily in my top 5 reasons of why WT's is one of the most useless platforms out there in spite of how successful it became.

[yesimwriting]

Final Girl (Part 10)

 Final Girl Masterlist  (updated chapters 1-10 and extras, asks/extras involving the final girl fic verse are under the tag ‘final girl fic’)

A/n i’m leaning towards starting to write shorter chapters in order to be able to update a little faster but idk

Series Summary:  Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at  Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: The aftermath of learning that a certain redheaded journalist is making you a focal point of her true crime novel. 

----

In the least cynical way possible, sometimes I think a part of my mom craves conflict. Not in a narcissistic or violent way, just in a protective one. 

She doesn’t pick fights for the sake of having them, she doesn’t tear into things for the rush of adrenaline or to feed some complex. My mom likes standing up for people in a way that would be annoyingly self righteous if it was any less genuine. Any incident that could be interpreted as blood in the water has her diving in head first, ready to ward off any potential sharks. 

That’s why nothing about this rampage is surprising. She’s been pacing the length of the kitchen without giving the phone in her hand a break, typing out numbers at an unbelievable speed, only occasionally pausing to flip through the phone book on the counter. 

“Well then put me through,” she stalls long enough to put a hand on her hip, “Not to an assistant, not to the station, or the publishing company. Get Gale Weathers on the phone. Now.” 

This is the third time she’s pulled this stunt since I walked into the kitchen to grab a pity snack. The way she presses her lips together tells me that this time hasn’t been any more successful. “She’s too busy? Well, I hope she’s not too busy for a law su--” Something cuts her off. My mom blinks. “Hello?” 

“I told you that threatening to sue people wouldn’t work over the phone.” 

She pulls the phone away from her ear with a sigh. “It’s not a threat if I mean it.” The phone is placed on the counter as she turns her attention to the phone book. “That woman can’t do this. You, and your legal guardian, never consented to your likeness or story being used.” 

Unfortunately, that’s not completely true. Or, at the very least, it’s not that concrete or straight forward. When something’s news, information becomes a lot less easy to claim as personal or yours. Especially if personal information is kept vague enough. The second I was attacked by Ghostface and the news reported it, a lot of me in that context became a lot less legally sound. I’d have to prove it defamed me or hurt my life, which can’t be done before the book comes out. 

“We can’t prove that until the book is out.” 

She sighs, “There has to be something.” My mom taps her manicured nails against the granite counter top. 

My stomach twists with helplessness as the most urgent issue rushes to the front of my mind. It’s more than just someone taking advantage of my trauma or the fact that books are so much more permanent than any news headline ever could be. Books take time to come out, to circulate, which means that this tell all could reach its peak during my college app season. Princeton could see this. All colleges could see this. 

“Mom...” I can feel the tremor in my voice, but I can’t bring myself to stop it.

In a way, isn’t this best case scenario? Compared to what could have happened? Isn’t this such a small thing compared to what happened to Casey? I know this, but I can’t quite bring myself to feel it fully. Not when it comes to something I’ve worked for my entire life.

“What if--what if this gets in the way of Princeton?” 

She presses her lips together, watching me openly in a way that’s become familiar. “Oh, pumpkin,” she breathes, moving across the counter to pull me into a hug, “I’m sorry you’re going through this.” I squeeze her tightly. “And that I don’t know what to say or how to help.” She smooths my hair down gently. “But when it comes to school, all you can do is keep up your grades and when the time comes, write the best essay you can. And if they’re stupid enough to turn down your weirdly-good grades and insane resume, then screw Princeton.” 

Despite myself, I smile. Those soft digs at my type-A-ness aren’t lost on me and the sense of familiarity I get from them instantly make it easier. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah, and if you want, you could always write your own tell-all book that would outsell hers because yours is from the--” 

“Excuse me?” 

She lets go of me, taking a step back at my offense. “I’m not telling you to write it, I’m just saying a published book would look good on an Ivy-league application.” 

Sometimes I’m so crazy about school that I forget my mom is also capable of insanity. “Mom!” 

My mom lets out a sigh. “What? You’ve been obsessed with Princeton since your dad gave you his old college sweatshirt in the third grade, but now I’m crazy?” 

She’s half joking and I know she’d never actually push me to write something like that, but my stomach still turns. Yes, I have made a ton of jokes about having no morals when it comes to college apps, but it’s different now. Anything that has to do with that Ghostface stuff feels tainted. I don’t want success from him. I don’t want anything good from Casey’s death.

I pick up the spoon that’s sunken into my partially melted bowl of ice cream. “I am not exploiting this.”

She holds her hands up in defense, “It’d ruin Gale’s book, jump start your career in journalism.” My mom extends an arm, asking for my spoon. I sigh before handing it to her. She eats a healthy spoonful of ice cream. “Two birds, one stone.” 

I scoff, taking the spoon back and eating my own spoonful. "You’re sick.” 

My mom steps back form the counter. “Just a suggestion.” 

I’m about to assert my previous point when the doorbell rings. I raise an eyebrow at my mom, silently asking if I’m expecting anyone. I’m not so I just shrug, moving away from the counter and towards the door.

There’s a chance it could be Wells. He’s at work, but it wouldn’t be the first time he forgot his keys. I peak out the window and am instantly pleasantly surprised. I’m more excited than I can justify as I reach for the front door’s lock. 

The door creaks open and I fight down a grin. I don’t know why they’re here, but I don’t mind the unexpected visit. I had been planning on moping and rotting in bed until school. 

“Hey,” I mumble, latching onto my surprise. 

Stu flashes a warm smile in greeting, “Hey, sweetheart.” 

I wrinkle my nose at the nickname despite its tameness. My mom’s way too close for that. I’m torn between making a joke about it and avoiding drawing attention to my concern and giving Stu a reason to push. I settle on looking over at Billy. He’s standing in a way that feels a little stiff. 

There’s a chance they called first, since they usually do when they come over through the front door instead of just showing up at my window. “If you called, my mom’s sort of taken over our phone line.” They both already know about Gale’s book and the fact that she’s editing it to include me, since they were both there when I found out. That still doesn’t make it easy to talk about, “She’s hunting down Gale Weathers.”

"Then I’m scared for Gale Weathers.” Stu raises his eyebrows, exaggerating concern.

Billy nods once, “She deserves it.” 

That’s true. I wasn’t exactly kind to her during our brief meeting, but she ambushed me at school after I was attacked. But that can’t be enough to justify what she’s doing now, especially without so much as a ‘heads up, you’re in my book’ phone call. If you’re going to potentially ruin someone’s future because they happened to have survived a serial killer, it wouldn’t kill you to call first. 

“Anything...else up?” Stu’s question surprises me. Maybe I didn’t react fast enough or I still look as worried about all of this as I feel. 

I don’t want to get into the details of my concern. I freaked out in front of them enough after I saw Gale’s announcement on TV, but there’s no way I can get away with acting like I’m perfectly okay with it all now. I guess I’ll go with deflecting, “Just my mom being a total college obsessed psycho.”

The corner of Billy’s mouth tilts upwards, almost a smile. “You had to get it from somewhere.” 

I glare at him in a way that I really hope is cutting. “Shut up. I’m not psycho.” 

“I’ve seen the Princeton poster in your roo--” I shake my head sharply, extending an arm to softly punch Stu’s arm. 

He stops, more out of surprise than decency. I drop my voice to a low whisper in order to explain, “My mom’s not that distracted, and she doesn’t know you’ve ever been in my room.” Stu grins at my seriousness. “And she can never find out.” 

This only makes him grin more openly, “Keeping secrets for me?” 

“I’m not above kicking you guys out.” 

Billy sighs, a defensive huff. “I didn’t do anything.” 

A slightly too aggressive you brought him here almost slips out, but I manage to stop it. Maybe if I was in a more joking, lighthearted mood I’d let myself make that kind of aggressive joke, but I’m moody and there’s a good chance my irritation will slip into that. it’ll taint the comment and make it something a lot more serious than it’s supposed to be. 

“Yet,” I settle on, trying to feel as easy as the comment.

He frowns, eyebrows pulling together like he just watched me kick a puppy. After a second, Billy parts his lips, but he doesn’t get to say anything back. 

“Who’s at the door?” My mom’s voice carries from the hall and to the entryway, a moment later she appears. I turn my head in time to see her polite smile, a little irate thanks to how the last day and a half have been. “Oh, hi, Billy, Stu.’’ Her greeting is flatter than usual as she barely takes a second to look up from the phone. “Come in, come in.” 

I step back to create space for them to come in. Despite my mom’s instinctual fall back to politeness, she barely notices the difference as she hits redial before pressing the phone to her ear. “Do you guys want anything to drink or...are you hungry or...going...” She trails off, attention visibly shifting as she waves us off, “Hello, can I--look, that’s great, Jocelyn, but I need to get in touch with your supervisor?” 

With one last force-of-habit smile, she turns away from the entryway and walks out. I walk towards the front door, instinctually shutting and locking it. “That’s basically my life now.” 

“Poor thing,” Stu’s voice is thick with false sympathy, “Your mommy’s fixing everything for--” 

“Shut up.” The reply comes out too quickly, too serious.

Stu blinks once, clearly not expecting the hint of actual tension and hostility that managed to press itself into the two words. “Someone’s moody.” 

I squeeze my eyes shut for a long second. “Sorry, I didn’t--” Sighing, I try to force the stiffness out of my body. “This book thing’s starting to get to me. I know that’s not an excuse, I just--” I don’t know how to explain the knot in my throat or the nerves in my stomach. 

The thought of this one thing I was delusional enough to think that I might be able to one day put behind me being everywhere is starting to claw at my insides. That helplessness is being amplified by a strange form of guilt, because I’m the one that’s still alive, so why should I get to complain? 

“Hey,” Stu interrupts my derailing train of thought. He places a hand on my shoulder, “No hard feelings, okay?” 

I nod, irritated at myself for the tears I feel burning in my eyes. “Okay.”

“You wanna get out of here?” Billy’s question is so low I almost convince myself I made it up. But then he lets out a breath and tacts on something else, “...Or we could go upstairs or watch a movie or whatever?”

The offer is so gentle I nearly melt. “Did you guys want to do something?”

They did come here, probably for a reason. Not that they never come over just to hang out, but they usually have some kind of plan or suggestion, like going over to Stu’s or driving around or watching a specific movie. 

“Just wanted to see how you were doing.” Billy’s reply comes out slowly, his eyes not fully focused on me. “We called and you didn’t answer, and after the news thing...”

That’s fair. I did leave Stu’s house pretty fast after the Gale Weathers thing and haven’t talked to anyone outside of my house for over 24 hours. Usually people worrying about how I’m handling things makes me feel uncomfortably hollow, but this doesn’t make any of that come up. Maybe it’s because they’re not making it feel like pity. 

“Uh...” There’s honestly not much that seems fun right now. A part of me still wants to crawl under my covers and pretend that nothing else exists, but they’ve pulled me out worse moods before. “I can show you guys that album I was talking about?” The offer feels weak, a little hollow. Stu squeezes my shoulder before relaxing his arm. “The CD’s in my room.” I shrug, looking between the two of them, “Or we could do whatever.” 

“You’ve been talking about that CD for a long time for someone who always forgets to bring it.” Stu’s not even trying to hide his accusation as he starts walking down the hallway.

I cross my arms, giving Billy a look that asks if he can believe all I have to deal with. “Yeah, I’m just worried your top 20 pallet is too complex for our tastes to ever overlap.” 

Stu scoffs, “Yeah, I’m the one that’s into top 20.” 

“Out of the three of us?” Billy’s question rivals Stu’s blatant sarcasm. 

I fight down a smile as Stu turns his head enough to glare. The display of irritation is short lived, because Stu has to turn back around to avoid tripping on the first stair step. He nearly misses, but recovers so quickly I wouldn’t have noticed the misstep if I hadn’t been looking at him. Sometimes his stability surprises me, because Stu’s energetic and lanky enough to warrant being a little clumsy, but he’s a lot better at not tripping than me. 

We walk up the stairs, the only sound filling the space is my mom’s voice, too far for any specifics to be made out. 

“I think I miss your mom not trusting us.” Stu lets out a wistful sigh.

Rolling my eyes, I push open the door to my room. “Don’t worry, she’s just distracted.” 

Even though my mom’s phone tirade is definitely helping her be so easy, I know what he’s talking about. When Billy and Stu first started hanging around, my mom felt the need to hover a lot more. She’d check up on us a lot more than she would when I was alone with Sidney or Tatum. My mom would also make a lot of jokes and comments in order to pry as (not so) subtly as possible. Slowly, she became more accustomed (or maybe desensitized), to them and now my mom acts a lot more normal in front of them. When they leave, she normally still pushes a little, usually through humor, but it’s a lot more tolerable now.

Stu walks into my room before I can, walking towards my bed. “We’re growing on her.”

I sit down next to him. “Or she finally gets that you two barely register as guys to me.” 

Stu moves, intentionally bumping his knee into mine, hard enough to make my knee move. Once he has my attention, he flexes an arm. “I’m all man, angel.”

There’s an exaggerated quality to his reaction that I can’t tell if I’m meant to take seriously or not. It’s the uncertainty that makes me let out a slight laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

He turns his head, leaning back slightly as he presses his palms into my comforter. “Then how’d you mean it?” 

My face feels a little warmer than before and I can’t figure out what that’s about. I’m used to Stu pressing after comments like this. Sometimes his humor focuses on making someone feel uncomfortable. Retreating or acting awkward gives him a reason to keep pushing. But I have no good way to answer. 

I wipe my hands on the fabric of my jeans. “Don’t start.” 

“Maybe I don’t get it.” 

I stand, throwing him a dirty look as I move towards my CD player. “Maybe you’re full of shit.” 

He huffs, “Mean.”

My fingers skim the row of CDs on my desk before finding the one I’m looking for. I use my nail to pop open the case. “Yeah, I’m a real bully.” Billy, who’s been lingering near my desk, opens my CD player before I can. I set the disk in place. “Can you believe him?” 

Billy shakes his head once, a few strands of hair falling out of place with the motion. He picks up the CD case and starts studying the back of it. “I can’t believe you can’t.” 

Stu lets out a distracted sound of protest. I wouldn’t be surprised if I turned around and found him fidgeting with something. My room’s not a total disaster, but I’ve been too busy moping to fully clean it, so there are a lot of contenders for things Stu could be messing with. I can’t think of anything that’s within his reach that’s embarrassing or important, so I let it go. Billy seems a little tense and considering the headspace he was in the last time I saw him, figuring that out is important. 

“Fair,” I hum, shutting the CD player, “You uh--” His eyes flit upwards, away from the CD case. The look is kind of stiff, but not annoyed or wary. It makes me realize that I don’t really have a good way to finish my sentence. Asking if someone’s okay never feels natural. Especially when he’s only been here for a few. “You okay?” I force myself to focus on the CD player, messing with the volume instead fo just hitting play. “You seem a little tense.” 

He sets the plastic case down. “I’m okay.” Billy straightens, shifting his weight off of my desk. The movement is small, he hasn’t even taken a full step, but the change makes him feel a lot closer. “Just can’t believe she can do that.” His tone takes on such a hard edge it takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about. Is the book thing really bothering him that much? “To you, to--does she think she’s untouchable? That guy’s still out there, what makes her think he won’t find her and rip that bitch’s--”

Billy cuts himself off with no warning, eyes focusing on me. I blink. Billy might come off as intense and reserved before you know him, but he’s never seemed explosive or prone to emotional impulsivity like that. Even when I briefly thought he could have been the killer, he never came off as aggressive. He never even held the fact that I put his life in danger and accused him of being a serial killer against me. 

This tension is new and it came from feeling defensive over me. The realization that it has something to do over me makes me more antsy than Billy’s actual words. 

“Woah,” Stu says through a dry laugh. “Relax, dude, there’s no need to write the next news story for her.” Stu swings an arm over my shoulder. I’m still stuck on what just happened, so it takes me a millisecond too long to weakly attempt to get Stu off of me. He pinches my shoulder, the nail of his thumb digging into my skin just enough for it to register as stinging. “You’re in poor Billy’s head.” I can’t tell if Stu’s teasing is meant to be sympathetic towards Billy or accusatory towards me. “Give the boy a break.” 

My chin briefly tilts downwards, a compulsory movement that seems to genuinely want to listen to what’s clearly a joking command. “I’ll try.” 

Stu relaxes his hold on me, dragging his thumb up and down the exposed skin of my shoulder, soothing the skin he accidentally irritated. I extend my arm, turning on the music absentmindedly. The room doesn’t exactly feel tense, but I feel a lot smaller than I did a few seconds ago. I don’t know if it’s because of the dip into a gory, too real topic or Stu’s comment or if I’m still just irritable.

“Guess it’s not your fault,” Stu hums, squeezing my shoulder once, “You can’t help being lovable.”

I try to keep myself focused as I adjust the volume of the first song. “That’s true.” He lets go of me and I stand a little straighter. “We all have our faults.” 

Billy lets out a breath that’s suspiciously close to a laugh. “Yeah, your only flaw’s that you’re too perfect.” 

“You were the one ready to support a murder for her,” Stu defends bluntly, “Not saying that Gale Weathers doesn’t deserve what she gets.” 

In all honesty, I had been so distracted by the way the book would affect me and my chances to get past the Ghostface thing that I didn’t even think about the actual killer. This could get him to hurt someone else. Gale Weathers could be making herself a target, but I find the thought unlikely. The more I reflect on why he left me alive the more I think that it might have been because there’s more of a story when there’s a survivor. He joked with me about the final girl thing. He also called me once without attacking anyone. The asshole probably gets off on attention. 

Gale Weathers is probably the safest person in this town. The more she talks, the more attention he gets. It probably also helps his ego because he knows everyone’s after him and he hasn’t been caught. It’ll probably get him to hurt someone...just not her. Not that I hope Gale gets stabbed, it just makes her choices that much more selfish. 

I scratch the back of my wrist, staring at my open palm. The tiny white line, the scar carved into the skin of my hand seems bigger right now. “I don’t--it’s not like I want Gale to get hurt.” 

“No one’s saying you do,” Billy says, voice patient. 

I sigh, a part of me wishing this hadn’t come up. This was the last thing I wanted to think about, that’s why I’ve been ignoring calls and just focusing on homework. I walk away from my desk and sit down on my bed before slumping back semi-dramatically. If this is how Billy and Stu are acting, everyone at school is definitely going to start treating me weirdly again. Maybe Gale will be there, trying to chase me down for a quote. 

Ugh...maybe I can get my mom to bully the principle into letting me homeschool for a few days. A week maximum. Or maybe she’ll let me pretend to have mono or something. I have most of my textbooks here and I could get assignments from-- 

My bed dips, cutting off my train of thought. I turn my head enough to see Billy. “I--” His voice comes out so low I’m surprised I even heard him over the music. “I didn’t want to bring all of that up for you.”

There’s a softness there that makes it easier to genuinely shake my head dismissively. “It’s okay.” 

His eyes briefly meet mine. “I also didn’t uh--didn’t want to freak you out or--” 

“You didn’t.” That’s true, at least in the way he meant it. That level of anger over something that only really affects me did surprise me, but it’s not like he scared me. He hesitantly focuses his attention on me. I prop my head up on one elbow, watching him carefully. “You’re not as scary as you think you are.” 

Billy tilts his head, his lips tugging into an uncertain smile. “Oh, yeah?” 

He’s probing, likely trying to trick me into a compliment. “You’re losing your edge.” I keep my voice as nonchalant as possible as I drop my elbow and lay down again. “I think it’s all the time around me.” 

His eyebrows draw together like he’s seriously considering my hypothesis. “Valid theory.” The bed moves with no warning, the space to my left indenting. Billy lays down next to me without moving to make sure there’s enough space between me and the headboard. His arm presses into mine. “All the time in here can’t be helping either.” 

Billy does come over to my room a lot, usually crashing here when he needs to avoid his dad and doesn’t want to talk about it. Recently, though, he hasn’t been around as much. I didn’t think too much of it until I went over to Stu’s and saw that Billy wasn’t up for much of anything. “It’s the exposure to all the fluffy pillows.” 

“Probably.” Something warm brushes against the back of my wrist. Billy carefully traces an invisible line up my forearm. “This song’s nice.” 

The warmth of validation tugs at my chest. “It’s my favorite one on here.” He follows the same trail back down the inside of my forearm. “I think you’ll like the uh--” There had been a specific one on the track list that reminded me of a few songs he had shown me before. I list the titles in my head until I remember the right one, “Fourth track.” 

“Hm,” he hums in a way that doesn’t feel dismissive, just relaxed.

The bed shifts again. I crane my neck back, eyes straining to see behind me. After a second, I make out Stu circling my nightstand. “This is new.” He’s picking something up. Stu sits back down, making it easier to see what’s caught his attention. 

Oh. Not new, but I don’t blame him for not having my bookshelf memorized. “Not new.” He turns the book onto its side, studying the worn spine as if to confirm what I’m saying. “Just haven’t read it in a minute, thought it might cheer up.” 

There have been few problems that American Psycho and Patrick Bateman haven’t been able to at least help. It didn’t make me feel a lot better, but it was nice to distract myself from a real life murderer with the fictitious kind. 

Stu pauses, skimming the back of the book. “A little dark for a pick me up.” 

“It’s well written.” 

That’s true, and its commentary on social values and the rise of well off, stockbroker success and the culture that’s developed because of it is interesting and a creative analysis of society’s values. It also helps that despite being written with only a few redeeming qualities and being the literal villain (and weirdly misogynistic), I might have the smallest bit of a thing for Patrick Bateman. Not that I’d ever go for anyone like that in real life, but my fascination with his character is definitely a guilty pleasure. A guilty pleasure they really don’t need to know about.

He thumbs through the pages, attention focused like he’s actually reading it all that fast. Stu nods once, setting the book down at the edge of my bed before picking up a sweatshirt I almost forgot was still on my bed. He takes a second to feel the fabric of the sleeve before loosely folding it. Stu leaves it next to my book before laying down. 

We’re all lying horizontally now, but Stu’s backwards, his head closer to my torso and legs than anything else. The position makes it easy for me to secretly move my hand and softly flick his shoulder. Stu snaps his head in my direction, expression so shocked and slightly horrified I might as well have slapped him. 

It’d probably be smart to backtrack, but I’m clearly in no mood to make intelligent decisions, so I let myself laugh. The sound is a quick, too-smug giggle. Stu’s eyebrows pull together at the sound, the look concerning in its seriousness. I move to pull my hand back, but my reaction is too late. Stu throws his hand forward, grasping onto my wrist. I yank back once, had enough to be considered serious. Stu squeezes tighter, pulling my arm forward with an ease that embarrasses me.

“Stu!” A partial squeak, a partial laugh. 

He squeezes my arm to his chest, forcing my body to lean forward. I squirm, attempting to slip out of his grasp. I come close to escaping when I twist my arm back and turn my wrist without warning him, but Stu recovers. Growing desperate, I use my free hand to shove his shoulder. That backfires, too, encouraging him to use his other hand to keep me trapped.

The play fight escalates, both of us trying to win without getting up or seeming too invested. My wrist makes a cracking sound as I finally slip out of his hold. He’s quick to throw his arm forward and grab me again. Before I can even think to react, Stu tugs my hand upwards and briefly nips the side of my hand. 

I gasp so dramatically one might think he tried to gnaw off my entire hand. “Did you just bite me?”  Stu laughs, finally letting me take my arm back. I take a second to examine my hand, even though his teeth barely touched me. After deciding that my unmarked skin will one day recover, I prop myself up on my forearm and look over at Billy. “He fucking bit me.” 

Billy turns his head, unbothered by our conflict. “You started it.” There’s an underlying smugness that makes me want to shove him. I frown openly, not caring if I get accused of pouting. He sighs, holding up a hand. “Fine. Let’s see the damage.” 

“I didn’t even touch her.” 

I roll my eyes at Stu’s defense. Did it hurt? No, but it was deeply offensive. “You’re lucky I don’t bite you.” 

Stu lets out a breath, “Sweetheart, you can bi--” 

“Do not.” I keep my voice stern as I look at Billy’s waiting hand. He asked to see the damage, but there really isn’t any. The skin beneath my thumb wasn’t even grossly damp. It was more about my shock. But I still listen, setting my hand on his. 

Billy pulls on my hand gently, studying my skin intently. He even takes a second to bend my fingers and stretch them back out. “Think you’ll live.” 

I nod, letting Billy take his time still examining my hand. “Optimistic prognosis.” 

He shrugs slightly, his shoulder bumping into mine. “Only if you’ve had all your shots.”

Stu’s scoff and offended, “Fuck off,” are nearly drowned out by my laughter. Billy sets my hand down between us carefully. My giggling fit is drawn out by the rush of fondness in my chest. These two really are so much weirder than people realize and I wouldn’t change it for anything. Wow. They really are my best friends, and maybe arguably the most important people in my life. 

Feeling this close to anyone usually makes me want to be flighty. I’m not used to it when it comes to people I haven’t known my entire life, and there’s an inherent nervousness when it comes to growing attached to people you don’t completely know. It is kind of weird to feel this close to them and I haven’t even seen Billy’s room yet, so it makes sense that sometimes it feels different than what I’m used to. 

“What are you thinking about?” The question takes me by surprise, breaking the easy silence that’s been carried by the soft music. 

I blink at Billy’s words, a small part of me reacting like I’ve been caught doing something embarrassing. “Uh...nothing.” Fairly true. It’s not like my train of thought was focused or made much sense. Still, though, I should probably give him something more so he doesn’t assume that I’m trying to hide a mental break down. “...That you’re one of my best friends and I’ve never been to your house before.” 

Stu lightly squeezes my forearm. “You’re not missing much.” 

“You bit me,” I mumble, “What do you know?” 

He relaxes his hold on me in order to run his knuckles up and down my arm. “It was a love bite.” 

“Like a feral cat.”

Stu scoffs. “This is why Billy doesn’t want you at his place.” 

Wow. Rude. I part my lips, ready to insult him. “Okay,” Billy interjects, “Don’t start again.” A part of me’s offended by the defense. I should be able to fight Stu over this. “You guys are kids.”

I glare, “Rude.” 

“Fine, let him bite you again.” My nose wrinkles, but before I can say anything, Billy continues, “And he’s not wrong, you’re not missing much.” 

He’s probably right, I’ve just been thinking about it a little more than usual. “Until I see it, I’m going to think that your bedsheets are bright pink.”

“Actually, they’re bright purple.” 

The sarcasm comes out so quickly, so casually, I almost think he means it. “Nice try, but I’m still assuming neon pink.” 

He sighs, “It’s neon now?” The question’s mumbled, and before I can say anything back, Billy sits up. 

Stu turns onto his side, eyebrows drawn together in order to silently ask what’s up with Billy. “What are you doing?” 

“If she’s going to make up things about my room until she sees it...” He walks away from my bed, stopping close to my door. “We should get it over with.” 

Oh my god?? I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I also wasn’t prepared for the wave of excitement buzzing in my chest. I sit up too quickly, too telling. “Really?” 

It’s a casual thing that I really don’t want to make weird, but I wasn’t angling to get him to take us over there. And the thought is nice, they’re my best friends and a bedroom gives insight into a person. It’s also the perfect distraction after everything that’s happened today. 

“Yeah? Really?” 

Billy shrugs, already reaching my door. “It’ll be better than whatever she makes up about it.” 

A good point, because I was already thinking about ways to work in an assumption about him having zebra print lampshades and posters pulled from pre-teen magazines. “Am I getting that predictable?” 

He raises his eyebrows and Stu tries to conceal a laugh. I roll my eyes as Billy returns the question, “Getting?” 

“Haha.” Why do I hang out with them? I take back all the warm, fuzzy thoughts about them. 

I push myself to my feet, looking for my shoes. Stu sits up, waiting for me to find my sneakers. Because I was planning on hiding in my room until school, I almost didn’t change out of pajamas and now I’m glad I changed into some leggings and a comfortable shirt this morning.

My shoes were hiding underneath a pillow. I free them and sit on the edge of my bed to pull them on. Stu taps my knee, getting me to turn. “What?” 

He pats his lap once, implying something I don’t get. When I don’t react quickly enough, Stu sighs and bends forward. He pulls on my laces. “I can--” It’s too late, he’s already looped them once and is working on doing it again. “Double knotted?” 

Stu squeezes my ankle after tying my last shoe. “You trip too much for me not to.” 

I scoff, “You were almost nice.” 

“I’m always nice to you, angel.”

rolling my eyes, I move to stand after Stu straightens. 

“Grab a jacket,” Billy mumbles, “It’s cold.”

If my mom could see this, she’d never make another joke about him again. Actually, she’d probably say he’s one of my only friends with good sense. “Nerd.” 

He gives me a more-than-slightly-annoyed look as I reach for the jacket hanging on my desk chair. I make a point of holding up the jacket before folding the fabric over my arm. 

----

It’s a lot harder to not look like a little kid on a field trip than one would think. Maybe it’s the jacket that’s gone from neatly folded over my arm to a wadded up lump pressed snugly into my chest, held in place by my crossed together arm. The spring in my step could be part of the problem, a slight bounce that has to be a result of the touch of fall chilliness in the air and has absolutely nothing to do with internal excitement. That’d be way too dramatic. 

Billy unlocks the door and pulls it open. Stu walks in first, I follow. We walk down a short entryway that leads to a main living area. The living area is put together, radiating a neatness that almost feels clinical. Maybe that’s an exaggerated way of taking in the precisely angled arm chairs and the glass figurine that’s sitting on the coffee table, but I can’t help the thought. It has to be a byproduct of the ‘organized chaos’ my mom raised me on, a stack of magazines in the living room that never seem to fully straighten and unmatched pillows that get paired together to tell a story. 

The space is nice, though, some underlying factor I can’t pinpoint making it still feel a little homey. It’s almost like the room’s covered by an invisible cloak that makes it clear that people live here, that this isn’t some open house. I take my time looking around the room, trying to find a source for this feeling. 

There are a few framed photos, but none of them revolving around family enough to offer a homey feel, just pictures of a little boy growing up. The fuzzy one of the boy at maybe the age of six stands out on the coffee table, his smile reveals a missing tooth in a way that makes it a personal favorite. For a second, I think the subtle lived in atmosphere could be coming from the few knick knacks on the coffee table and book shelf, but quickly rule that out. Sure, they’re objectively nice decorations but they don’t fit together in that way. There’s no way a dad didn’t pick them out. 

I guess the feeling comes from the details. The most comfortable looking arm chair is the one closest to the bookshelf even though that corner of the room is almost a little too cramped for the two to sit next to each other. The rug matches the walls and the couch in a way that makes the cream colored pillows seem sad and out of place. 

“Is it everything you thought it’d be?” 

Stu’s voice snaps me out of my train of thought. I nod once, stepping towards the coffee table. My hand reaches forward, picking up the picture of the kid with the missing tooth. “Oh, most definitely.” 

Billy sighs at the same time Stu lets out a quick, easy laugh. “That’s a good one.” 

“Put it down,” Billy mumbles halfheartedly, but it’s too late. Stu’s at my side, taking the smooth frame. He holds it up and then down, squinting like he’s studying a complex work of art. “This was a mistake.” 

I grin, “Once again, most definitely.” 

“You used to be a real softie.” Stu delivers the comment in a way that feels almost factual. I bite down a joke about how used to feels like an exaggeration as Stu sets down the frame. 

Billy frowns a little too pointedly. “Yeah, I was the one that was sensitive.” 

I turn my head towards Stu, who’s stiffer than he was too seconds ago. There’s definitely a story there. “What’s that about?”

“Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” Stu pouts, lazily extending an arm in my direction. “He’s always been jealous of me.” 

Mhm. I roll my eyes, sighing as I reluctantly step forward and meet him halfway. Stu squeezes my shoulder. The gesture is gentle enough, but I still halfheartedly try to push him off. “Yeah, jealous sounds like the right word.” 

He huffs. “Don’t be mean.” 

I force my thumb downwards. My nail pinches at my skin a little but it works, I get in between the fabric of my shirt and Stu’s palm. He curves his hand to give me the space I need. “I’m never mean.” He tries to squeeze my thumb down flat. “Seriously, though,” I turn my head enough to look at Billy, “Story?” 

Billy tilts his head just enough for me to notice and his eyebrows pull together. The feeling that he’s silently trying to tell me something I can’t interpret tugs at me briefly. He straightens his stance before I can read too much into the look. “Imagine that with the impulse control of a seven-year-old, that’s the story.” 

Stu being a former terror is a topic that’s been touched on before. Usually, the issue with befriending people that have known each other their entire lives is that you’ll never have the childhood experiences together. You’ll never know whose parents hosted the sleepovers or who had constantly scraped knees or who went through an embarrassing obsession with some child targeted franchise. 

It’s a fair thing thing to be intimidated by. And normally, it’d sting from time to time, but with them it rarely does. I like hearing the stories, like the details that come up. 

Stu scoffs in complaint, fighting back with renewed interest as I come close to freeing my shoulder.

“He used to have a thing for bugs,” Billy offers after a second, “Didn’t like when people would mess with hives and-and food routes or whatever.” 

The hand on my shoulder nearly goes slack. I blink, twisting my neck to look at Stu, whose staring straight ahead. “Shut up.” The words come out uncharacteristically passive, and maybe even a little flat. 

Picturing Stu as one of those insect fact kids wouldn’t come to me naturally, but it does kind of fit. Not the defending them, but the interest in something that gets people to react. 

“Really?”

Stu sighs, “Not really.” Again, a surprisingly flat defense. “I didn’t have a thing...just thought they were...” He lifts one shoulder in a shrug, “Cool.” 

“So cool you had to put a beetle in Valerie Thompson’s cubbie.” 

...And there it is. I laugh despite myself, imagining a second-grade Stu and some poor girl getting into some kind of argument and then later finding something crawling between her crayons and coloring sheets. Maybe it’s a good thing we met when we did. Little me could be a monster in her own way, a way that wouldn’t have fit theres.  “That poor girl.” 

“Valerie Thompson had it coming,” Stu says, “Y’know what she was like.” 

I don’t know if it’s weird that I assumed that Stu was talking to me or both of us instead of just talking to Billy. The comment was small, offhanded and focused on a topic only they know about. It’s fair for him to not be talking to me. Rationally, I get it. That doesn’t mean I like it, though. 

I’ve seen them interact in ways that make it feel like everyone else is invisible. They get each other like that. Anyone that’s around them long enough to see them relax has to get it. It’s the kind of understanding that makes people insecure about their own best-friendship. Not that it makes me feel like that. Most of the time. 

Something about it right now burns more than usual. My feelings aren’t hurt, I’m not upset because that wouldn’t be fair, but I’m not comfortable and breezy either. That just makes it worse, why does it feel different now?

Maybe my irritability is a result of multiple things. All I’ve had to today is a few spoonfuls of the ice cream that I mainly picked at so that my mom wouldn’t worry and I’ve had no water. The whole book thing has been stressful, too, and the pulsing ache of a migraine is starting to settle behind my right eye. 

It was nice of Billy to invite me over because I asked, but maybe it’s too early for me to be out again. Maybe what I need is the safe enclosure of my bedroom, dim lighting, and a nap. 

I try to shake off my discomfort by acting on instinct. The instinct of a feral toddler that isn’t getting enough attention. I twist my thumb, poking his hand with my nail. I’m not being mean about it, but I could have been gentler. Stu doesn’t react, which only adds to my annoyance.

My knuckles bend, giving me the space I need to get enough leverage to separate Stu’s hand from my arm. He lets me. 

“Guess he hasn’t changed that much since he bit you today.” 

The direct comment has me easing slightly. I get myself to smile. “Clearly.”

Billy takes a partial step forward, “You good?” 

I scratch the back of my arm, trying to ground myself in the present. Be normal. “Yeah...just tired.” Which is true enough. I wipe at my face, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to control the dull pain. “And I feel like I’m getting a headache.” 

He nods, expression cloudy. “You want tylenol or water or...something.” 

Pull it together. I force my hands to my side as I shake my head once. “I’m okay, just spaced out for a second.” 

“You need to lay down?” Stu tilts his head, watching me like a part of him thinks I could faint.

My fingertips press into my side. “I’m good, it’s just a migraine.” This is what happens when someone decides to write a book about the most traumatic thing I’ve ever gone through. “Probably just stress.” They’re staring attentively. I can’t blame them for their concern. If I freaked out right now, this wouldn’t be my first meltdown. The fact that it’s warranted makes everything feel like too much. “Can we get back to analyzing Billy’s baby pictures? I think I saw one with a pool floaty on the bookshelf.”

“Baby pictures are low tier.” Stu briefly lifts a hand before dropping it dismissively, swiping at the air. “The real making fun of Billy’s in his room.”

“Really?”

"Yep. All the angst.” 

Intriguing. “All the angst and pink sheets, right?” 

“Neon.” 

Billy sighs once, reluctantly stepping forward. This is all out of his control now. “You two don’t need to be around each other.” 

He walks past the couch, approaching a hall that leads away from the living room. Stu turns his head the second Billy’s back is to us. “So jealous of us.” 

Despite myself, I smile, finally feeling a bit more at ease. “So.” 

We walk down the hall together. Billy’s fully ditched us, but Stu knows where we’re going. The hall is short, we pass one door before Stu stops us in front of one that’s partially open. He opens it fully with a gentle push and walks in without a second thought.

I’m still stepping into the room when the bed creaks loudly thanks to the sudden addition of Stu’s weight. He’s making himself just as at home as he does in my room, rolling onto his stomach to reach for a pillow to tuck beneath him. 

Billy sighs from his desk chair, moving his legs off the foot of the bed. “What did we say you were? Seven?” 

Stu cranes his neck, glaring at Billy before relaxing again. “And a half.” 

“Feels generous.” The joke comes out instinctually, but my attention’s already divided.

Billy’s room is made up of deep blue-grey walls, not quite dark but nowhere close to light either. All the furniture is made of dark wood that matches the hardwood of the floor. The room is decorated a little neater than one would expect for a teenage boy, a few posters that are sized too well to not have been picked out carefully. They’re movie themed, though nowhere near as openly gory or sexualized as the one’s in Stu’s. 

Everything’s also nicely organized. Like, even more organized than my room. No clothes on the floor or laundry sitting in a basket or on a chair in a pile that’s left to grow until it eventually topples over. What I can see of his desk is also put together, no assignments or unfinished books or projects cluttering the surface.

I walk towards the bed, siting down on the edge. The comforter is navy blue and a lot softer than I thought it’d be. His sheets are dark colored, neutral plaid. Not hot pink or an obnoxious shade of purple, unfortunately. I can’t bring myself to mind being wrong. The space is really Billy in a reserved sort of way. It fits him. 

“No pink sheets.” Billy’s voice snaps me out of my analysis. It’s a good thing, too, because I was probably seconds away from touching things on his bookshelf and messing with the lamp and being nosey about knick knacks. I’d feel worse about the desire to pry and investigate for entertainment’s sake if both of them weren’t constantly looking through my things. 

My hand brushes the edge of the sheet that’s folded over. “Disappointing.” I twist awkwardly to better look at him. Billy’s bouncing his leg, not looking at anything in particular. “But besides that, it’s nice and not as embarrassing as Stu said it’d be.” 

Billy’s eyebrows draw together, “As?” 

Stu props his head up on one elbow despite the fact that most of his arm sinks into a pillow. “Look through his underwear draw and then we’ll talk.” 

I laugh, surprising myself with how loud and genuine it is. The suddenness aggravates the background soreness of a headache. I ignore it. “You’ve looked through his underwear drawer?” 

“It--” Stu cuts himself off with a sigh that sounds suspiciously close to a laugh, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

Our laughing fit ends as Billy stands up. “Where are you going?” 

He walks around the bed, barely glancing over at me to answer, “Give me a second.” ...Okay? “Don’t look through my underwear drawer.” 

“No promises,” Stu calls after him.

Billy doesn’t react, extending an arm and instinctually half-shutting the door. Stu adjusts, forcing himself to sit up. He’s farther back on the bed than me, but his legs are so long his knees are nearly level with mine. “We’re not really gonna do that are we?” 

Stu half laughs-half scoffs, wrinkling his nose and scrunching his eyes together in pretend disgust. “I’m good.” I smile. “We can tell him we did, though.” 

“We should also tell him we found something really embarrassing.” Stu raises his eyebrows and I immediately regret it. I scoff, reaching back to smack his arm. “Not like that, I meant like a stuffed animal or something.” 

“Don’t you have stuffed animals?” 

My posture stiffens, a tiny part of me offended that he’s implying that my children are something I should be embarrassed about. “That’s different.” I frown, thinking of the one stuffed animal that lives on my bed and the few that live around my room. “And you said you liked them.” 

Stu never said that, but he has implied it. Nothing crazy, just a few debates between a duck my mom had given me as a child and a bear from my grandparents. He even asked about their names. 

He shrugs, turning towards me. His knee taps against mine. “I’m not complaining.” I narrow my eyes, skeptical if this is leading into some kind of joke. “As long as Daisy leaves Blueberry alone.” 

I fight down a laugh, because laughing would undo all of the work I’ve put in to convincing him that making up lore about my stuffed animals is something he should stop. “You made that up.” 

He tilts his head, “That’s what Daisy wants you to think.” 

“I don’t even think you actually remember which one’s Daisy and which one’s Blueberry.” 

Stu gasps like I’ve slapped him. “Daisy’s obviously the duck with the--the sweater--blue sweater with daisies--and Blueberry’s the bear in overalls.” 

This time, the giggle slips out. I’m still not convinced he’s not making fun of me in some way or setting up for some kind of joke, but the way he grins might make it worth it. “Too easy. Which one’s Jellybean?” 

He presses his lips together to demonstrate serious thought. “The...bookshelf one. The bunny with the--the ears.” Stu lifts a hand, using his fingers to try to draw something long and floppy in the air. “The grey one.” I grin. “And the last one’s French Fry, the dog on your desk for good luck.” 

“Okay,” I manage reluctantly, a confession pulled out like a tooth, “You did a good job.” 

Stu’s smile impossibly widens, reaching forward to wrap an arm around me. “I know my girl.” 

I sigh, mumbling a quick, “Not your girl.” Stu ignores me, squeezing me to him a little more confidently. “And you know I don’t actually think French Fry’s lucky anymore, he just lives there.” 

He scoffs, “Don’t talk about French Fry like that, babe, all he does is guard your homework.” 

I frown, craning my neck to look at him, “Are you making fun of me?” 

“No,” he breathes the word out in a way that makes it feel like the opposite of what it means. 

Some joke about how French Fry’s going to have to start guarding me from him is almost out of my mouth when something creeks. Billy’s opening the door, a glass in his hand. He extends the glass towards me. I take it instinctually, even though I have no idea what the water’s about.

“Drink,” Billy says, already moving to the other side of the bed, “For your head.” 

Ah. Not the first time Billy’s blamed an issue on me not drinking enough water. Even though I didn’t ask for anything, the gesture makes my chest feel warm. I take a few long sips. “Thanks.” 

Billy nods once, sitting at the edge of the bed. Stu twists himself to make it easier to look at Billy. “You know she just said French Fry’s not lucky.” 

“Wow,” Billy shrugs, a distinctly sarcastic lilt to his shock, “That’s blasphemous.” 

I roll my eyes before drinking some more water. “I just meant that I’m not like five and that I don’t actually think he can bark away the bad grades.” A barely covered laugh overlaps with the last of my words. I snap my head towards Billy. “What?” 

“Bark away the bad grades?” Okay, it sounds dumb now, but when I was younger the thought of doing my homework in the presence of French Fry was comforting. A school counselor recommended him to keep me calm during tests and now he’s just a good omen. “You just--you don’t seem like you were that weird a kid and then you say--” 

“I was not weird!” A little defensive for someone that was in the fourth grade with a stress plushy. “I was--I was like one of those kids that was basically an extra excited old person.” 

Stu’s arm slips off me as he adjusts the way he’s sitting. “Yeah, that sounds normal.” 

Really? After what’s been established about him? “Okay, bug boy.” 

He glares, openly offended. “It wasn’t like that.” 

“Sure.” 

“Okay.” Billy’s interjection tells me that he’s hitting his petty fight limit earlier today than usual. He only tries to preemptively intervene when he’s hitting a specific wall that Stu and I make people realize they have. “Before you guys start fighting like little kids, have you had lunch yet?” 

Unless you count a bowl of ice cream that ended up abandoned in my kitchen... 

Stu sits up a little more, “Nope.” He turns his head enough to look at me, “What about you, angel?” 

I tap my nails against my knee. “Not yet.”

“Wanna go to that pizza place?” Stu offers, already moving towards the edge of the bed to stand.

The thought of food isn’t particularly appealing, but I’ve moved past the stage of panic that made the thought of eating nauseating. What is nauseating is what could happen if I go out in public. Gale Weathers has been nonstop promoting her book. What if someone recognizes me? It was bad enough when the attack first happened and my school was buzzing with journalists...Now things are confirmed and Gale Weathers can’t keep my name out of her mouth. 

My grip on the glass of water tightens, “Sure.” 

“We can do something else if you want?” 

Ugh...a selfish part of me wishes I had it in me to pretend not to hear the hint of uneasiness in Stu’s voice. I could shake my head and say that pizza’s good, blame my hesitance on the beginnings of a migraine and sleep depravation. 

“It’s not...” Both of my hands grasp the glass. I press my thumb against the rim with enough tension to leave a red line indented into my skin. “She’s still talking about it and--and I saw some other show doing a segment on it and my name came up like three times in the five minutes that I watched.” 

It’s going to take over my life. Slowly but surely, it’ll take more and more. The buzz will die down and the side stares and not-so-mumbled comments will stop, because they did before. But then the book will come out and it will start again, and by the time it stops being super relevant it’ll be linked to my identity. Colleges will see it, any job that requires a background check will find it in seconds, and all it takes is for one person to find out and then it’s everywhere. 

What if I get into a great school and start making friends and then one person realizes they’ve seen my name before or looks into Gale’s career for whatever reason and then suddenly it’s everywhere? It’ll cling to me like a shadow, the label of victim the kind one and the conspiracy theorists... 

“You don’t have to put up with it.” Billy’s voice is low, almost unfeeling. I don’t get what he’s saying. Billy understands my question before I can ask. “The Gale thing--if she wants to use your name every two seconds to promote her book, you should let her know you’re not okay with it. Don’t make it easy for her, you’re not helpless.” 

The sharpness in his tone doesn’t feel aggressive, it’s urging. Honest. “Sorry, that was--” 

“Don’t be sorry.” I mean it. The directness and the lack of coddling forced me out of my the-world-is-ending spiral. My mom’s trying to track Gale Weathers down logically, but with someone that doesn’t mind playing underhanded to get what she wants, you have to work the same way. She ambushes people all the time. “I think I needed to hear it.” 

Gale’s office is probably in a public directory, and if it’s not, she’ll probably try to find me at school. There’ll be a chance to tell her off, a chance to stop her. Or at least, to get her to stop mentioning me like I’m a tagline. 

“We’ll take her down,” Stu encourages, gently bumping his fist against my arm, “After food.” He stands up, the bed shifting beneath his weight. “C’mon, if anyone looks at you, I’ll beat ‘em up.” 

I roll my eyes, letting Stu pull on my free hand until I stand up. “You offer to do that a lot. I think you just want to beat someone up.” 

“Nah, if I did, I’d just punch Billy.” 

Billy lets out an exhausted sigh as he stands. “Seriously?” 

“What? I’d say I’d punch her, but she scares me a little.” Considering how often Stu and I do fight each other, I really doubt it. “She fights dirty.” 

“Yeah.” Billy’s agreement comes out suspiciously fast as he opens the door. “I’ve seen her kick your ass.” 

----

a/n billy and stu when someone else takes advantage of y/n’s trauma: 🤯🤬

also next chapter should be a lot messier hehehe

Taglist:  @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129 @i-amnotokaywiththis @fvcking-gxddess @suckmyass-things @im-better-than-your-newborn @michibuni @bigenargy @marli-lavellan @mushy-mushroom04 @neenieweenie @lone-ray @the-ruler-of-death @andthevillainshallrises @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixbolik-bby @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @peachycupotea @my5tica1ien @agustdeeyaa @astrial @3ll0kittylvr420 @zoleea-exultant @slaypussypop-21 @aonungs-tsahik @finnydraws @slytherhoes @vxarak @xofeeeeelsxo @thewayiknowyou @yourslashersfinalgirl @winterridinghood @maggieleighc @kobababysblog @moved2burntrubbertoast @gamecrew209 @idkf-loll @wolfgirl-205 @ultimatequeenieofsass @kathanibennett @itsjuststaticnoises @brittney69 @domaniquessidehoe @kaydesssssssss @superhighschoollevelnerd-blog1 @classicbandtrash83 @itzz-me-duh 

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After the Flesh 18+ -Chapter 11-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 3,545 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings:  Sexual language, foul language, use of a slur, depictions of violence. This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.

A/n: This chapter was an intense write, I flew through it and the momentum continued right into chapter 12. I sort of rushed the art a little due to having a bunch of exams lined up this month plus assignments so please be patient. Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.

Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.

Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa , @baybaybear1

Chapter 11

                Charlie made you stay on the property close to the house, if you needed to leave in order to work the orchard or check on the construction on your home, you had to bring him or Tommy along with you. After you told Charlie about the incident, both he and Tommy searched the property for clues, footprints, anything to be able to try and identify who it may have been hiding in the forest that night, but they always came back with nothing. It was as if the shadow person really was just a shadow and nothing more, but you knew what you saw, you saw its form very clearly in the dark of the night.

It had been three days since you told Charlie about it, Luda Mae was on edge worrying about you and your safety. Tommy was also being overly protective of you, he watched you everywhere you went when you were outside, he made you join him in the barn to have you near him while he tended to the animals, you didn’t mind spending the extra time near him.

Today was no different from the rest, the sun was bright in the sky with a cloudless expanse of blue surrounding it. You spent a lot of the morning doing laundry, as you finished hanging up the last of the garments on the outside hang line, you heard a call from Luda Mae,

“Hun, can you come in here when your good and done that laundry?”

You respond in agreement, the final clothespin now tightly pinching one of Tommy’s massive white shirts. You step down from the stool and admire the clothes swaying in the gentle breeze, you felt a certain nostalgia for hanging clothes, your grandmother used to have you help her hang the laundry on the line when you were small, and you never forgot the fresh smell of the outside air on the clothes when you took them down for folding.

You walked into the kitchen from the backdoor with the empty laundry basket in hand, Luda Mae was dressed to leave the house, she grabbed her purse and turned to look for you,

“Oh, there you are. I need to go to the gas station today. Charlie’s gon’ drop me off, then he has to go to town and get some things.” She walks over to grab her sun hat which hung on the wall, and continued,

“Thomas’ gonna be out in the barn with them cows while we’re away, one of ‘em needs a hoof trim so he’s gon’ be a while. Can you stay inside ‘til we’re back? I don’t want to risk you gettin’ hurt by some weirdo or nothin’”

You follow her to the main entrance, you felt compelled to ask,

“Shouldn’t I just stay outside with Tommy?”

Luda Mae is now already opening the door, Charlie is honking the horn in the distance to push her along,

“I just wanna be sure you’re safe hun, it’s mighty boring watchin’ a man shave a hoof down, n’ it takes forever to do.” She opens the door to leave but turns and says some final words,

“Every door in this house is locked, as soon as I close this one make sure to lock it and check the door you came in as well. If you’re in the house at least I know you won’t be messed with. I’ll be back in a few hours hun.”

She shut the door and ran to the idling truck while Charlie reamed her out for taking so long. You lock the door as she asked, and head to the kitchen to lock the back door as instructed. You sigh and look out the window at Tommy who was pushing one of the cows’ legs into the holster to prop it up for the trim -I guess I can go to my room and read for a bit-. When you entered your room, you noticed a bit of dust floating in the air, you decide to open the window to let fresh air inside. You went over to one of the bookshelves in the room and picked out a book you never got to finish from high school titled ‘Island of the Blue Dolphins’.

You lay down on your bed to start the book from the first chapter, each sentence reminded you of the past. The book took you out of your head and into someone else’s world, a story from history retold. As you continued to read you grew tired, your eyelids became heavy and before you could put the book down, you were out like a light.

Tommy was still working on the cow, he was gentle and sliced thin sheets off the keratinous layer keeping in mind the comfort level of the cow. He was at it for over an hour, he decided the cow had enough and deserved to take a break. He unhooked the leg and brought the cow out to the pasture with the others, he watched as it happily bounced away to go find a moist patch of grass to munch on. He missed you, and wanted to check in to see what you were up to and get a glass of water while he was inside.

Tommy unlocked the door to the kitchen and poured himself some water which he guzzled down in an instant, as he filled the cup again, he called out to you but there was no answer; Finishing the next glass of water, Tommy went to look for you, calling your name as he moved through each room, but there was never an answer. He felt a chill go up his spine and began searching more frantically, loudly yelling out to you in hopes you were on another floor. He went to your room and knocked on the door, no answer.

Tommy opened the door and looked around the room, he saw your bed was messed up and the window was wide open. You were gone. He screamed for you, running all over the house in case he was wrong about his assumptions but each room he checked was met with dead silence and no one to see. He ran outside, the barn was the first place to look, nothing. He ran to the wheat field, searched around each corner including inside the silo, nothing. He looked in the car graveyard, opening the doors and trunks, searching under the cars, nothing. The final place was the pond, he ran as quick as possible, he looked through the trees and all around the surrounding forest, he searched the dock and the water, nothing again.

Tommy felt like his world was collapsing in on him, he couldn’t find you anywhere, you were taken from him and he wasn’t there to stop it, he was brimming with rage at his failure to protect you.  Now that you were missing, Tommy was hell bent on finding you, he would search to the ends of the earth if he had to, he won’t stop until you are in his arms again.

-

You woke up in a dark room, it was lit dimly with old string lights. The ceiling and walls of the room were made of dirt, like they had been dug into by a shovel, the walls were reinforced by wood beams that the string of the lights would loop around. You felt exhausted, you could barely keep your eyes open and your vision was going in and out of blurriness. You felt like you were laying down on a hard surface, it was cold in this place, -am, I dreaming? Where am I?- You were too exhausted to panic, when you tried to lift your arm to rub your eyes, you realize you couldn’t, you were unable to move your whole body, the best you could manage was just curling your toes or twitching your fingers.

You groan to see if you could speak, you were able to squeak out a noise thankfully. You hear footsteps coming towards where you lay, a smell follows when the footsteps drew close, body odor, really bad body odor. You push out some words,

“Hhhwho, whos…there?” it was weak but audible.

You hear the footsteps come close to you, a chuckle rattles into your ears, someone walks up to your side and looks down at you, their face is too blurry to make out, they speak,

“Nice o’ you t’wake up.”

The voice was familiar, but you struggled to think of the person it reminded you of, you squeeze out another question,

“Hhhh…hhhwho?”

The person kneels down and gets really close to your face, its Dover. You grumble and try to move to get away but he laughs as you struggle.

“Recognize me now dontcha bitch?” his words were pointed, he continues to speak,

“Finally caught ya when those freaks went away. They fucked up muh dang fire and now yer still alive. I intend t’change that.”

You squirm, tears start to roll from your eyes, -why can’t I move? Please let this just be a bad dream- you blink frantically, feeling like if you could just push yourself then somehow you could get out of there. Dover goes over to a shelf area and grabs some ropes, he comes back to you and starts tying your arms and legs down,

“I drugged ya while y’slept in yer nice cushy bed at the Hewitt house.” He ties your hands together and attached the rope to a pole that was behind you,

“Im gon’ wait ‘till it wears off so y’can get the full effect of what I’m gonna put ya through. Payback fer Tilly just up and givin’ everythin’ away t’some whore from Canada.” He ties your feet together and lifts you so you sit upright against the dirt wall next to were you lay.

He walked away and disappeared around the corner, all you could do was cry, as time passed you started to gain your movement back and were finally able to speak. You didn’t remember anything other than falling asleep in your bed with the book, you felt like you were in a waking nightmare. You tried to scream out for help, calling each of the Hewitt’s names in case either of them could hear you, tears streaming down your face as you yelled.

Dover returned, he mocked your screaming and crying and laughed when you stopped, he looked worse than usual, his beard had grown in and was yellowing already, he smelled like he hadn’t bathed in forever. You try to free yourself from your bonds but they were so tight it just cut into your skin the more you struggled, you look up at him as he stood over you, smirking, you ask,

“Why are you doing this?!”

He tilts his head back to chuckle to himself, then says,

“I deserve some fun b’fore I take up the deed to Tilly’s property, I earned it.”

You respond,

“Where did you go after the fire? And where the fuck am I?”

He kneels down to you, his rank smell overwhelming your senses,

“When I saw the fuckin’ Hewitts drivin’ up I had t’run, so I made my way out to an abandoned lot n’ dug this hole so’s I be able t’kill ya without no one knowin’ where I was.” He looked around and continued,

“Seems it worked. Oh, y’can scream all ya want here, no one’s gon’ hear ya.” He cackled and walked over to the table where he got the ropes from,

“Y’see, Im gon’ take pleasure in fuckin’ ya up. Maybe after I kill ya, I’ll give yer body t’the Hewitts, so they can eat it.”

You hang your head down, the tears dripping onto your legs,

“What the hell are you talking about? Just let me go! If you let me go, I won’t say anything to anyone, please!” you had to choke past your tears to speak, you were so scared of what was coming next, you continue to plead,

“Please let me go, please, I don’t want to die.”

Dover just laughs at you, he turns away from the table and is holding a knife, he inspects the edge of it with his thumb as he walks over to you,

“Y’think I’m stupid? I know If I let y’go, those cannibals’ll be after me.” He kneels down and starts to cut away your shirt exposing your bra,

“Y’gon be mighty uncomfortable in the cold down here. Ain’t no comfort comin’ t’ya. While yer awake and alive, you might as well know the truth ‘bout the freaks you lived with.”

You cut in, “What?”

He smirks and continues to tear away the rest of your shirt,

“Those Hewitts, used t’eat people back b’fore the orchard grew. The economy was down, real bad, everyone left town fer greener pastures. Not them though, those dumb fucks wouldn’t leave their big fancy house. Once the food went out n’ deliveries stopped, the animals starved n’ stopped producin’, they ate what animals were left ‘til there was none.” He looked up past his brows at you,

“That’s when they started eatin’ people. Travellin’ folks would be picked off when they came in town fer gas, killed ‘em all n’ cooked ‘em up fer dinner. That big retard one did most of the killin’, he’d slaughter ‘em all then butcher the bodies fer the meat. He’s evil with how many he killed.”

You just sat still, eyes wide,

“How do you know all this? Why didn’t they kill you?”

He ran the knife up your arm, tracing the tip over your skin, he said,

“I used t’be the one deliverin’ gas to the station, only reason they had a fuckin’ store t’begin with. Then when Tilly came round, she hired me on t’start up the orchard. She paid me t’keep quiet. None of it matters now anyway, I’m gon’ report them to the sherriff, and blame them fer ya dyin’”

You yell at him, “What makes you think they won’t hunt you down after I’m dead?”

He laughs,

“They ain’t gon’ get the chance, the sherriff’ll be called b’fore I leave this hole after I’m done with ya”

You start screaming again, as loud as you could just in case any of the Hewitts were nearby. Dover slaps you across the face,

“Save yer screams fer when the fun starts.”

The sting from his slap was panful, you already felt dizzy from the drugs he injected into you wearing off, the slap just made it all worse. You try to struggle again, hoping to possibly get loose form the rope, Dover was now cutting away at your shorts laughing at your efforts to escape,

“Struggle all ya want whore, yer never getting’ out of those knots.”

You curse at him,

“You fucking evil pig, what are you planning?”

He tears away the cloth from your shorts, now exposing your underwear, the chill of the room now giving your skin goosebumps, you feel so cold you shiver. He says,

“I’m gonna take y’apart, piece by piece.” He laughs to himself as he gets up to grab something off the table again.

You wriggle your hands back and forth; you start to feel the rope loosen so you continue steadily wriggling to help loosen it more. You watch Dover to make sure he still has his back turned, you were able to get your hands free, you start to untie your feet while watching Dover. You were able to loosen the rope on your feet and quickly placed your hands back to where they were, holding the rope with them so he didn’t know they were untied, he turned around and had a larger knife with him now.

He came and squatted down to look over your body, he touched your leg and ran his calloused hand up your thigh,

“Don’t know where t’start.” He said as he looked over your legs.

He placed the knifes edge on your collarbone, he pressed in and you winced in pain, he started laughing maniacally, his eyes closed tightly as he threw his head back with glee. Just as he exposed his neck, you punched him right in the Adams apple and he fell backward choking. He dropped the knife to his side as he held his throat, you picked it up and plunged it into his calf, it penetrated and sliced through his muscle and poked through the other side, he clenched his calf with his hands as he choked, trying to catch his breath.

You removed the rope fully from your feet and ran out of the area, you turned the corner and found a doorway made of scrap metal, you fling the door open and start running, barely able to see in front of you. The pathway was at an incline upwards, it led you to a dead end, you looked around for a door and spotted a ladder, you looked up and saw a wooden latch door. You frantically climbed the ladder and pushed up on the door, it opened up to a field with extremely tall grass, you were almost fully out of the hole when you felt a tug at your foot, Dover was behind you pulling you down, it made you fall to the ground above the latch door and he began to drag you into the hole, you screamed as loud as you could.

You were almost pulled in again but you landed a swift kick to Dover’s face with your free foot, he grunted in pain and fell backward into the hole, letting go of your foot. You closed the latch door and ran as fast as you could through the grass, you didn’t know where you were but you knew you needed to put distance between you and him. The sky was dark, it was already nightfall, you were grateful for the heat, it was warming your cold, exposed body. You snuck your way through the grass, being careful to not leave an obvious trail for Dover to find you. You hear his laugh,

“Im gon’ find you bitch! You can’t hide from me!” His words resonated loudly, he was nearby.

You crouch down low and quiet your movements to try and hide in the grass as best you could. You hear him shuffling haphazardly as he floundered around the brush. He was getting closer; you quietly move yourself to a denser area of the field and kneel down as low as possible. You listened for him, his footsteps were inching closer to you, you could hear his heavy breathing and sat as still and quiet as possible when you saw his legs through the strands of vegetation surrounding you,

“Come out lil’ piggy, I’m gonna getcha” he called out for you in a sing-song way, sounding even more unhinged than before.

He was now right next to where you were, you hitched your breath and lowered yourself further into the grass hoping for the best. After a few seconds of just hearing his heavy breathing, he moved on. You waited for a good minute and then when you couldn’t hear his movements again, you quietly snuck away. You continued moving in the same direction, hoping it was going to at least get you to a road, you raised your head above the grass slightly to see where you should go, a forest could be seen in the distance so you made your way towards that, now running as fast as you could.

Just when you reached the edge of the forest you felt your hair pulled back roughly, it made you fall backward and you yelped in pain.

“Gotcha!” he shouted with glee.

Dover dragged you closer to him by your hair, you scratched and clawed at his hand to release your hair. You were at his feet now, he let go of your hair and stood over top of you, he placed his foot on your stomach and stood onto you, you yelled out for help with your last inhalation. He kept applying pressure, now making it hard for you to breathe in, you punched his leg as hard as you could but this just made him laugh loudly. He dropped himself on top of your body, he placed his legs on your arms to prevent you from moving, you gasp for air and let out another scream.

Dover punches your face, you yell in pain and feel dizzy again, his hands are now around your neck squeezing your throat. In this moment, you feel helpless, you can’t squirm enough to get him off of you and now the blood is unable to get to your brain causing you to slowly slip into darkness. As the world around you begins to fade, you hear a low rumbling, like the growl of a wolf. The pressure from your neck is gone and there’s no one on your body, as the blood starts rushing back into your brain you gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you roll over onto your front.

The sound you heard was no wolf, it was the revving of an engine, a small engine, a chainsaw.

Next chapter-

[cherr-22]

TNGDH 37

The night was long as Kyle said.

All the liveliness of the marketplace disappeared the next night and it felt as if the winter’s cold hadn’t gone away.

The candles held in the children’s hands fluttered with the wind. Small sobs escaped from the mouths of people who were wiping away their tears in the dark.

It was a quiet night. The longing and cries that were buried during the day seeped out in the dark.

I looked straight ahead at Kyle, who had his eyes closed. Why did he look more solemn and pitiful than those who were crying?

It was a night where two hours felt like a whole day.

*

I sat in the hamster house and stared at the system window seriously.

Underneath the familiar signboard, [Love Love Corner~❤], were items lined up. The background, which was normally translucent blue, changed to pink.

‘Did it update? I don’t see any particular changes though.’

I flipped through the pages and the system popped up as if it had just woken up.

[(ˉ﹃ˉ)]

Hey, Hey. Stop sleeping. Did you stay up all night or something?

I’ve been thinking about it since before, but the system strangely mimicked people. Like being tired, or feeling angry or embarrassed.

‘Though it’s nice since it feels like I have company by my side.’

I laughed and the system blinked. It showed me a different emote.

[(づ￣//￣)づ]

An emote waving its hands towards one direction.

I looked at the direction it was pointing. There was a small banner and underneath that banner was an item.

‘You made a banner just for this one item?’

Why so flashy.

I narrowed my eyes and viewed the banner the system spent its entire night on making. If I didn’t, it felt like the system would feel disappointed in its wasted efforts.

Let’s see. Valen…….

―Squeak…… (Are you serious……?)

[Today is Valentine’s Day! Try sharing your love to your fated partner!]

Hey, this…….

I stared at the system window with a puzzled expression on my face. If you had the time to make something like this, you should’ve made something more useful! I didn’t give you Miracle Points just for you to do this!

I crossed my legs and pointed my finger at the system.

How about making cookies cheaper! You know how much I lost from buying so much this time!

[（＞人＜；）]

The system displayed an intimidated emote.

……Was I too harsh?

I felt a little bad as I saw it sweating profusely.

Alright. I’m thankful you put in a lot of effort just for me. Who knows. Maybe it’ll be something useful. It looks to be an item that goes into my inventory, so I could take it with me and use it whenever it’s necessary.

‘Let’s see what it is first.’

I read through the description of the item called [Almond Chocolate].

Made with the highest quality almonds and freshly squeezed milk, with cacao grown from the sunniest place…… okay, whatever. It’s delicious. As for its ability… [Makes the person who eats it feel happy!].

―Squeak. (Come out.)

[ ε=ε=ε=┏(゜ロ゜;)┛]

I furiously kicked at the system window as it ran away. You’re telling me to pay 43 Hearts for something like this?

While I ran around the hamster house, the study door opened.

It was of course, Kyle.

He looked less tired than yesterday but still haven’t recovered fully yet. There didn’t seem to be any injuries.

I paused and called the system.

‘Hey, system.’

The system blinked with a [(⊙_⊙)？]. I took a deep breath and checked the remaining Hearts I had.

60 Hearts.

‘I’ll give you ten more, so can you add an extra chocolate option for me?’

It displayed an emote that looked like someone rubbing their chin. Where did it learn to do that? It hasn’t been long since it opened the store, yet it already became such a businessman.

‘It’s not a big deal. Just a fatigue recovery chocolate. I’m giving you extra Hearts for my request.’

I gave the system the puppy eyes. A nodding emote along with a [Loading……] sign came up.

Kyle walked over to me. I obediently climbed up onto his hand.

You must be very tired.

However, as the leader of the knights and the Grand Duke of the North, he couldn’t say a single word about how difficult and tiring it was.

That’s why, it’s times like this that I should…….

―…….

O-oh. Okay. Kiss me all you want. ……And stop eating my fur.

“You’re cute today too, Cashew.”

After kissing me for a whole ten minutes, Kyle reorganized my fur.

Somehow, I felt like my energy has been sucked out.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t received kisses like these for a while. Not only did they feel longer than usual, but I was also out of breath. I laid face down in his palm as if my soul was drained out.

Then, as if to comfort me, he shared some unexpected good news.

“You remember when I tried to inject something into your body? I apologize for what happened back then. That won’t happen again in the future. He told me that trying to force mana into your body could be bad for you.”

―Squeak squeak! (That’s right! You made the right choice!)

I jumped and sat up straight. Then, I patted his thumb with my small paw as if praising him. I’m so proud of you. You’re amazing. Listening to my words so well!

“You’re that happy? Besides your slow growth rate, there isn’t anything wrong with your body. Let’s wait a bit more and see. If anything does happen, we could always take you to the demonic beast specialist. No matter what, I’ll save you.”

I’m worried about your life, yet you’re worried about my own.

I turned around and checked the system window next to Kyle.

His lifespan had about a month and a half remaining.

I had no idea what remaining incidents were left for him, but I knew that there was one major event before the season was over.

*

“Ahem.”

I stood in front of Kyle’s door and cleared my throat.

Strangely enough, I always felt nervous whenever I stood before his room. The previous time I stood before his door, I felt nervous because I made a mistake, but today I just felt a little embarrassed.

The system worked faster than expected. In the 10 minutes it took Kyle to kiss me, they added an additional option in the store and raised the price.

Honestly, I wished the system had forgotten about the price raise, but there was a red line drawn across with the number 53 written next to it.

As a result, I only had 7 Hearts left. Once upon a time, I had over 100 Hearts……

This is all for Kyle. For Kyle.

I shook my head and knocked on the door lightly. Kyle’s voice was heard from inside, telling me to come in.

“It’s you.”

Kyle took off his glasses.

I walked over to his desk with the chocolate clenched tightly behind my back. He waited for me with a soft smile on his face.

Don’t smile like that. It’s making me feel strange.

I ignored the heat coming up to my ears and held out the box of chocolates to him. He obediently accepted it with a puzzled look on his face.

“What is this?”

“You will know once you open it.”

Kyle untied the beautifully wrapped pink ribbon and opened the box.

I didn’t look inside before giving them to Kyle, but there were round pink, white, and black chocolates filling the box with the center……

“…….”

“…….”

Hey. System.

Hey. Stop hiding from me.

“Did you make these yourself?”

“……Ah. Uh. Well. Yes. It just so happened…….”

Something was written on top of the large chocolate heart.

To my beloved Kyle, His Highness.

I felt like hitting my throbbing head a few times.

Why didn’t I check this beforehand. Why did I give him this. I should’ve seen what was inside before giving it to him!

My clenched fist trembled. Once I return, I will definitely get my revenge on the system. I’d only feel better once I either give it a premature death or grab it by its collar.

I wasn’t sure if Kyle understood my feelings properly or not, but he stared at the chocolates for a long time before picking up a round piece and putting it in his mouth.

“I had no idea you were good at making desserts too.”

“It just so happens that I’m good at various things.”

“But why the chocolate all of the sudden?”

“……From where I came from, today is the day where you give chocolates to someone you respect or are thankful for. It’s not a big deal, but I just remembered as I saw the calendar…… ah. It’s a traditional event passed down from generation to generation, so please take it.”

The situation was embarrassing, so I prolonged our conversation by rambling.

As soon as I finished my gibberish, he picked up another round chocolate and put it into my mouth this time.

“Then I must give one to you too. Today is February 14? I’ll keep it in mind from now on.”

“…….”

He laughed.

It was the most relaxed smile I’ve seen in a while. How can he smile so well when he looks colder than anyone else?

I relaxed my fist and squatted down. I heard the sound of a chair being pushed back, but I couldn’t raise my head.

Was there an effect in the chocolate that makes your heart beat? Or perhaps I was so embarrassed that I had arrhythmia.

I shut my eyes tight as I listened to my heart thump.

The chocolate he gave me melted in my mouth. It was so sweet that I started to feel strange.

Surely, it’s just the chocolate.

--------------------------------------------------------

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

[reodashi]

How Class 1-A texts

M.list

Warnings - Mentions of spicy scams in one part.

...

Midoriya - no caps, its not even on purpose. he just forgets to, and this slightly triggers some of his friends.

Iida - Very proper, and doesn't text naturally. He more so gives updates. Like...

'I have just gone on a nice run, the sun is very bright today.'

Bakugo - Many would think he'd be all caps and aggressive... But no. Why would he waste time on the extras? So he often respond with 'K' 'No' 'Yes' or leaves them as read. Depending on the person, he will occasionally threaten them.

Todoroki - Texts normally, but if he's feeling fun he'll add the basic 🙂or🙁 emoji. He does have a habit of leaving people on read... But he means well.

Uraraka - She's 50/50 she'll either text normally, and spell everything correct. Or misspell tons of words on purpose with so many emojis💕❤️🎂😜😝🎉. She also reacts to everyone's texts.

Kirishima - Hypes everyone up, he rarely even talks about himself. He just tries to help everyone else out.

'Bakubro, don't be hard on yourself! You're so manly!'

Denki - He has a meme reaction for every situation. Dad died? Squidward is here, no cookies left? Homer Simpson appeared, ran out of toilet paper? Rupaul just popped up.

Mina - ALL CAPS BECAUSE SHE IS SO HAPPY AND EXCITED TO BE TALKING WITH HER PALS AND SHE HAS SO MANY FUN STORIES TO TELL, ALSO LOTS OF EMOJIS! 💕🎉💖💕💖💕💖😜💋🦅

Sero - Sends meme reactions, but not as much as Denki. And he weirdly feels bad for unused emojis so he'll send out weird ones.

'Going to 7/11 want anything? 🍽️🍡💴'

Jiro - Doesn't talk much, she keeps it short and simple. She prefers talking through snapchat feeds or in person.

Momo - Starts all of the most used groupchats, but oddly enough rarely talks in them. She's busy, but she'll answer if someone needs help with studying or something.

Tokoyami - Quotes from his favorite movies or books a lot, tries to give advice even if it isn't the best advice. He likes to use 💀 emoji a lot.

Tsu - Sneaky, she takes screenshots of shady moments or makes private group chats to exclude the boys from. She's all for the girlies💅

Ojiro - Just watches the chaos unfold, sometimes comments on Tokoyami's quotes, saying he knows where it's from.

Sato - Sends yummy recipes he learned for people to try out, shares photos of beautiful sunsets, nice dinners, and wholesome quotes he found. Overall wholesome texter.

Aoyama - Takes selfies of himself, and sends them randomly. Like in a middle of a discussion over homework, he just sends a selfie of himself he thought was cute.

Hagakure - Starts heated debates, she nearly made the whole group chat become deleted after she asked if pineapple belongs on pizza. She likes to stir the pot, she makes sure to add a topic that triggers either Bakugo or Aoyama since they get the most heated.

Shoji - Gets brought into conversations a lot, gets hyped up by people randomly. And even started a small meme amongst the group that he was unaware of, he rarely texts in the group chat but everyone always wants him to join.

Koda - Sends game links in the chat just so he could get free gems in the game he's playing due to sharing the link. He also likes to use pet emojis, and share cute photos of his bunny.

Mineta - Was banned several times in the chat, by numerous people. Has to be told multiple times not to fall for p*rn scam ads, also sends game links for free gems.

"What do you guys mean, Anna isn't in my area?"

...

[rustingcat]

Spice

"Thank you so much for letting us come and see them. I know it's probably a bit odd to want to come and see a pod, or you know not much. But still, we appreciate it." Nia finished with an apologetic smile.

It wasn't really a surprise to them when the young couple wanted to see the embryo. Not that they could really see it, more like to be near it and see the data. Kara could understand it. She spent way more time than necessary in the lab, even if everything was progressing without a hitch. It was a Kryptonian design after all.

"Of course! I understand how much you want to see it." She nodded. "Not personally of course! But like you know, cause it could be your future baby and all." Kara chuckled nervously back at her.

"What Kara is trying to say is, that you don't need to explain yourself, it's perfectly reasonable to want to check in on it, and you're always welcome to in the future. Just let us know in advance in case I'm in the middle of handling a delicate project in here." Lena smiled back. There were, of course, no other projects in this lab.

"I understand why the big brain project is on the bottom, because of its special pod, but why is our embryo in pod number two?" Brainy asked as he got closer to the pods.

It had been slightly more than a week since the big decision was made. A decision they had told to absolutely no one, and had no intention of sharing until they had a real talk. A talk they delayed in part due to panic, if she was really honest. In an attempt to keep their secret they turned off the indicator light in the pod to make it seem inactive, and encrypted the data in the terminal in case Brainy pressed on it while making his inspection on their project.

"Uh… we had some problems with that pod, so…" Kara stuttered.

"We decided to put it in pod number two, just to be safe." Lena finished her sentence, sounding less panicky than Kara was feeling.

"Makes sense." Brainy nodded and turned to Nia as they stepped closer to be near their future baby.

Kara and Lena shared a small glance. Breathing a sigh of relief as the couple went to check on the live updates on the terminal.

"You think they suspect?" Kara whispered.

"They have no reason to," Lena whispered back under her breath.

"I have some questions regarding the nourishments feeder." Brainy turned back to them. They both straightened immediately.

"Of course, what do you want to know?" Lena smiled before Kara had time to react.

"First of all, it seems that the capacity is slightly bigger than what I would expect it to be for this size."

"A procession." Lena assured him. "With the combination of so many genetics we wanted to make sure."

"And the list of ingredients, it seems to be containing some traces of stuff we have not discussed regarding Nultorians and Coluan's biology." 

"Spices." Kara spat out, desperate to help.

"What?" Nia asked, she seemed as equally confused as Kara felt.

"What Kara meant," Lena's smile grew thinner as she put a hand on Kara’s shoulder, presumably to stop her from spitting out any more nonsense, "is that we add some extra ingredients with proven health benefits for alien babies."

"Spices." Kara nodded again, unable to stop herself due to panic.

"Yes," Lena fixed her with a look. "Spices." She forced a smile.

"I see. Much appreciated." He nodded.

Brainy and Nia turned back to the pod, exchanging a few hushed words that Kara tuned out to give them their privacy, before turning back to Lena.

"Again, thank you so much for letting us come." Nia said, walking closer to them both.

"Yes, and please do update us on every development." Brainy said. "And, yes, thank you very much." He quickly added after Nia gave him a slight nudge on his side.

"Of course. We're very glad to help." Lena smiled at the couple.

Kara smiled back and hoped that her smile didn't look too manic. It was only when Lena touched her arms that she added, "Yes! Very glad to help." In a slightly higher tone than usual.

Read everything on AO3

[sans-guy]

(explosion) butch info masterpost (explosion) I’ve been asked a few things a couple of times and i just wanna lay some stuff out about butch that doesn’t get asked just so u guys know. i'll update as needed (if i can remember) <3

I can’t say everything because sooner or later I want to create some kind of comic or fic, but can’t right now cus my brain sucks and i'm pretty busy irl

Here is his updated ref sheet How old: 30-ish How tall: 6'8"

He kills people???!?!?!? D: Yes. only people that really deserve it, he's not a mindless killer. Even though he's a butcher, killing isn't something he enjoys doing.

AND HE EATS THEM??! D: No. but he sells the meat to monsters that do, in an effort to get rid of evidence. he's not friendly with the monsters he does business with, and he does not sell to humans. The selling of human meat is a drug trade of sorts; and it is by no means an easy business to get out of.

lore and loreposts; -He needs glasses -How he lost his fingers

-He isn't too fond of humans.

-despite everything, he is goofy.

-extra info about relationships/"clients".

-he is not too socially inept, but prefers to keep to himself and not say too much, just the way he was raised. -he is a workaholic, preferring to stay either busy or asleep, despite occasionally getting sick from all the stress he's under.

-he is technologically illiterate, hates newer technology, but will still use a landline (for his friends or for work) and the library computers with help (to check emails cus the modern age is horrible and requires you to have an email) -he is very slow to make friends, but when he does, theyre very good friends, going as far to consider them his family. -he LOVES knives, and has a collection of unique knives (culinary/pocket knives/hunting knives etc) he's found or obtained from flea markets.

-because of the state of his right hand, he's technically ambidextrous, since he's had enough time to learn how to use his other hand, but still writes better with his right hand. he could use ecto fingers if he really wanted to, but he doesn't care either way.

-he lost a tooth rough housing with his brothers when he was younger (he has many siblings ((and his older brothers picked on him becus thats what loving siblings do <3 )) )

-his arms and hands are riddled with scars and cuts because thats what a lifetime of physical labor and 10 years working with sharp objects will do to u

-the gloves he wears are cutting gloves here's some fluffy small character stuff for him ive thought about, i'll update this list when i . remember what i posted lovers/trust/friendship can i draw butch (or any of your characters)??

can i draw butch kissing me/my insert?

i'm ok with most fanart, I love everything everyone makes of my guys!! but if ur not sure if i'll be comfortable with it, please just shoot me a message. i dont bite i promise *bats eyelashes* also its a given but no fanart or ships can be inserted into the canon sorry

edit; pls pls check out the #fanart tag, so many beautiful ppl have drawn/written so many beautiful things of my boy and they must be seen

[greed-the-dorkalicious]

All the discussion around AI lately got me thinking about an incident recently in which a guy got his ass sorely beat by the vocal synth community

For those of you not familiar, “vocal synths” in the electronic music sense typically refers to programs like Vocaloid, SynthV, UTAU, Alter/Ego, DeepVocal, etc., digital instruments that allow composers to create, as the name implies, synthesized vocal tracks. The way they work is that they draw from libraries (referred to as “voicebanks” or VB for short) of special studio recorded* vocal samples from singers singing different syllables at a consistent pitch. The program then splices these together and adjusts the pitch to match whatever notes you put in- You want to do All Star, it’s gonna string together “[suh][m] [buh][di] [wuh][n][s] [tO][ld] [mi]” or something like that. Basically it’s an extremely complicated sampler.

(*unless you’re using UTAU or another build-your-own-vocal program in which the “studio” is only metaphorical, and is sometimes somebody’s basement with a Rockband mic plugged into a laptop.)

Now, there is no threat of vocal synths putting actual singers out of a job. Even the best vocal synths always have a bit of a robotic sound to them, and the voicebanks take hundreds of hours of recording time from you know, actual singers. Any piece made with vocal synths has to be worked by a human hand in a process called “tuning” in order to sound any good, whether you’re trying to make it sound human or leaning into the robotic sound. This isn’t something that’s being done on a corporate scale to cut costs- This is something pretty much exclusively being done by small scale indie music hobbyists because we fucking love Hatsune Miku and her weird buddies. Most folks are less interested in doing something that sounds 1:1 like a human voice and more in going beyond what humans can do to make shit like this

One of the leading vocal synths right now is Synthesizer V (SynthV), created by a company called Dreamtonics. SynthV offers fancier versions of some of its voicebanks, which are called “AI” voicebanks. These use machine learning trained on, again, professionally recorded and legally licensed vocal samples to help make songs sound a little bit more smooth, a little bit more in line with whatever singing style you’re aiming for. Everything else previously mentioned still applies: They’re still painstakingly recorded and programmed, you still need to tweak it yourself to get it to sound just right, and it’s still never going to sound 100% like a human. And that’s fine!

For this next bit y’all are gonna have to trust me because the tweets all got deleted, though if anyone wants I’m happy to pull up screencaps of talking shit about it with other vocal synth folks when it happened lmfao

So basically. Since ChatGPT type grifters have convinced people that “AI” means “magic plagiarism button”, back in April some dipshit NFT guy on Twitter started complaining on an official SynthV update post that SynthV (which he apparently believed to be called “Dreamtonics”, the name of the company that makes it) should allow people to make voicebanks from “their own voice”, insisting that it would be easy and PROFITABLE!™ to do so. He also clearly did not actually mean “their own voice” but rather “the voices of celebrity singers shamelessly lifted without their consent”, which was made extra obvious from a tweet on his own page that was like “Teehee people in monitored Twitter spaces don’t realize their voices are being recorded and fed into AI!” which he then deleted after I linked it on the thread about SynthV. lol.

Dude proceeded to get whupped by actual vocal synth people basically saying shit along the lines of “Yeah we can all tell you just want to commit cheap plagiarism, jackass” and “Dude why are you here when you clearly don’t understand the very very basics of what this software even is” and “Go make an UTAU voicebank if it’s so easy then”. (UTAU being a Japanese freeware program that hasn’t been updated since 2013. Creating an UTAU voicebank is complicated and takes a lot of time and technical knowledge.) He still refused to learn the basics of how vocal synths work, and proceeded to ask if “UTAU or Diff is most compatible with Dreamtonics”, a question absolutely no one could make any sense of? Lol.

Anyway, I don’t have anywhere in particular I’m going with this, I just think AI grifters are morons, and it’s obnoxious how the vague and misleading term “AI” has gotten nigh-mythologized by shady tech companies to the point that people can’t tell the difference between perfectly reasonable assistive technology and magic plagiarism.

Btw, fun fact for anyone who’s wondering, there do in fact exist legally/morally questionable UTAU voicebanks spliced from outside vocals. These are called “jinriki” voicebanks and not only do they take the same amount (if not more) of hard work as any other voicebank, they’re far from the insta-Beyoncé this dude was aiming for, and instead they sound um. like this