#feeling totally normal and sane and fine and normal

[minzbins]

LEE KNOW 2024 SEASON'S GREETINGS

[savventeen]

hmm savv what would u do with mutual pining and woozi? :3c

daisy,,, beloved,,,,,,,,,, how dare you make me think about mutual pining w/ woozi ( /hj ) (i am already pining for him and thinking abt MUTUAL pining is going to drive me actually insane methinks g o d sdkjflskjdf)

ok so. SO. after vibrating in my seat and fantasizing abt lying down in the middle of the floor for the rest of time as i think about this concept, i have come to the following conclusion: mixtapes. and i mean in the classic "hey i made you this mixtape" sense

reader and jihoon are both producers for the same label and don't really interact that much at first. in fact, they don't actually even meet for the first time until soonyoung invites them both to his birthday party and they start talking shop, bonding over teasing soonyoung, and then ending the night with a promise to grab lunch together sometime.

fast forward a couple of months and they are officially Friends. they've managed to start a tradition of getting lunch together once a week and bitching about various work bullshit, and they've also started to hang out together in group settings after realizing they have more mutual friends as well

reader is the first one to send jihoon a song. it's a few hours after their weekly vent session, jihoon having taken up most of the time complaining about shitty higher-ups giving ridiculous deadlines and stuck-up idol wannabes trying to tell him how to do his job without having a clue about what his job actually is, and he gets a message from reader that says "i feel like this fits ur current mood" with a link to a song. [cw the song linked has a somewhat startling gun sound] he clicks on the link, curious, and then bursts out laughing after a few confused moments of listening bc that was NOT what he was expecting, at all

and that's how it starts, really. a few days later, he sends reader a song with the caption "how much u wanna bet soonyoung would choreograph something to this just bc it has the word 'tiger' in the title" / "no bet he absolutely would" / "ur no fun :P" / "sorry can't hear you i'm sending it to soonyoung as we speak"

pretty soon they're sending songs back and forth almost daily "what are ur thoughts on this" / "?? i don't speak french" / "and?" / "...ok yeah this is p good" "is this kinda close to the vibe you're trying to get for that one group you're working with?" / "not quite. but that's ok bc IM Vibin with this one" "i need u to stop whatever ur doing and listen to this with the bassist bass you can get with w/ ur setup" / "ok??" ... "holy shit" / "RIGHT?"

fast forward another couple of months, and reader shows up to jihoon's studio with a can of coke zero and a flash drive. "what's this?" / "this, my dear woozi-ssi, is going to be the solution to our creative blocks" and then reader goes on to explain their idea: they both have tracks that they're stuck on (personal, professional, or otherwise), and so they're gonna 'sisterhood of the traveling pants this shit' ('i literally have no idea what you're talking about'). aka: reader put some files they're having trouble with on this flash drive, and jihoon's gonna add any notes/ideas he has and then give it back with some of his own trouble files on it. rinse and repeat

and not only does it work ("ohmygod i've been trying to figure out that bridge transition for DAYS THANK YOU") but it also becomes Their Thing. like, they're used to collaborating with other writers/producers/etc bc it comes with the job, but something about this silly little flash drive... feels Special. [*cough*it's because they're catching Feelings*cough*]

tHIS IS GETTING SO LONG FUCK OKAY other things i would include in this fic: - one noticing the other has been working on a lot more love songs lately (or maybe a lot more Sad (read: pining) love songs) - reader has a bad day at some point and they end up losing the flash drive and they have a breakdown over it (jihoon comforts them and also helps them find it we love emotional hurt/comfort in this household) - scenes where they're individually waxing poetic about the other to different friends and the friends are like "bro. ur in love with them" "uh, no? they just have a great work ethic and a great taste in music also their lyricism is just—" "you. are. in. love." "i admire them professionally!

AND THEN THE CONCLUSION!! one of them decides to bite the metaphorical bullet and confess their Feelings. this could be either of them, but i'm gonna go with jihoon bc i can. so of course he can't just say "hey i love you" like a normal person, he has to confess through music. so he goes out and buys a new flash drive (with a really cute cover bc he knows they'd like it) and puts two folders on there. the first folder is full of instrumental files and is titled "all the times i couldn't find the words". and the second folder is titled "and all the times i could" and it's all love songs he's written inspired by/for reader

he sneaks into their studio and leaves the flash drive on your desk while you're in a meeting, and then he Waits and waits and waits some more until it's time to go home and it's been total radio silence and his heart feels like it's been crushed. so he starts to head home in the rain (bc i am a cheesy bastard and love rainy confession scenes) but after a few minutes of walking he hears shouting behind him and he turns to see you sprinting at him while screaming his name and before he can get a word out you're clutching his shoulders, soaked to the bone and asking "do you mean it? the songs, did— do you really mean it?"

and all he can do is nod because his heart still hasn't quite found its way back to his chest yet, and then he can't nod anymore because you're kissing him. you're kissing him, and he drops the umbrella he was holding and you're both kissing in the rain bc you're both obnoxious helpless romantics and "y/n-ah, i mean it— i mean it. i love you"

"i love you too, you stupid romantic bastard oh my god"

"hey, you're the one who started kissing me in the rain"

and it ends like the cheesy romcom this turned into bc i couldn't help myself and i need to lie down in a puddle of feelings now k thx

[send me a person and a trope/au and i'll tell you what kind of plot i'd write for them]

[kindahoping4forever]

Youngblood outro @ When We Were Young Fest Day 2

[stormyoceans]

Monica, are you okay?

[orcelito]

Tfw u have a mini mental breakdown in the work bathroom and then you have to walk out a whole hour and fifteen minutes after you clocked out & then finally finish locking everything up

I swear I'm normal I swear I'm normal

[artdcnaldson]

patrick hive to the rescue because im thinking, as i often do, about friends to lovers with patrick where you're kind of upset because he and art have gotten around and you're still struggling on the dating scene, maybe you're shy, probably you just have standards, and its really just all starting to bug you because you're worked up!!!!! imagine hanging out with patrick during the summer - the room is sticky with humidity, despite the air conditioning being on full blast. you're hot and irritated and sexually frustrated. patrick being half clothed isn't helping, either - you can see the gleam of sweat on his bare chest - the dusking of hair on his thick thighs as he lounges back with a cigarette. you're going mad, it feels like you could detonate at any second your clit is so on fire - throbbing and achey and everytime you press you sweat slick thighs together it makes it worse.

patrick is looking at his phone - so you take the chane - just a small touch - just for some relief. you're on the bed, there's a plushi blocking his view - it cant hurt just to slide a sneaky hand down the band of your shorts and panties. just to stroke your swollen slit. surely he wont noitce if you just...... rub yourself a little. while you sneak glances at his toned body - just peeks, really. if you're very quiet (you do realize the sticky squelch of your cunt can be heard across the room, right? you dont) you might even be able to cum undetected

GODDDDD FUCK!!!! This was supposed to be a chill, normal, short response. Instead I ignored 2 work calls bc it’s that serious.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (exibitionism/voyeurism, f!masturbation, not fingering but a secret third adjacent thing, extreme levels of horniness)

A/N: Patrick Hive we Linked and Built <3

Patrick thought it was so sweet that you invited him to visit your home for the summer. Apparently you’d sung nothing but his praises to your parents, because even though you were both eighteen, they let him sleep on the floor of your room on a blow up mattress, trusting him that much.

Which was annoying. You weren’t fucking Patrick (not for lack of wanting to), but they could’ve at least given you the benefit of the doubt and assumed that you might have some sort of sexual urges. It made your stupid fucking celibacy that much more embarrassing.

You’re home alone with him and the power’s out— a stupid, heat-induced rolling blackout. The open window only seems to usher in more hot summer air, so you’re both down to as few layers as would be appropriate. You, were down to a thin T-shirt and your panties. Patrick was only in a pair of grey nylon shorts. Sweat was beading down his bare chest, which was so fucking unfair.

Because it was Patrick, whose chest hair and happy trail made your mouth fill with drool any time you were treated to the sight of it. It was summer, and he was frequently shirtless, and you still hadn’t gotten used to the sight. Any sane person would want to lave their tongue along his chest, tasting the sweat and salt of his skin. That was… so totally normal to think about.

Patrick fucked your neighbor— the cute one who was going to a state school so she could be a kindergarten teacher. You didn’t know, but you were pretty sure. You’d been swimming in the pool during a cul-de-sac cookout, and they’d disappeared after a while. Patrick didn’t say anything that night, probably to protect your delicate sensibilities, but you could just kind of sense it.

God, it was unfair. All of the guys your age had girlfriends, or something. And the single ones were cute, but Patrick always seemed to fuck things up for you, either actively, or because you would always wind up talking about him. And because your parents thought it was totally fine for him to sleep in your room, you were surviving off of weak, rushed orgasms in the shower.

It was supposed to be a fun, sexy summer before you went off to college, and Patrick was totally ruining it. How was it fair that he got to fuck around and get his rocks off while you spent your summer feeling like you were wearing a fucking chastity belt?

And you were so wet it was uncomfortable, sticky between your thighs with absolutely no relief. Patrick was sitting on the fucking Air mattress, propped up by your cute, pink pillows and plushies that he’d stolen, watching a rerun of The Hills on MTV. His hand dangled out the open bedroom window so the smell of smoke wouldn’t get stuck in your innocent little bedroom.

He stretched, and you watched with an open mouth as he blew the cigarette smoke out the window. Pretty fucking lips, his muscles all taut as he turned. He looked back at the TV, and you exhaled a shaky breath. Fuck, you were so turned on you wanted to scream. Your pussy was just drooling into your panties, clit throbbing and aching for attention, your entire body felt empty, desperate to be filled up.

You were practically buried in your stuffed animal collection, which was embarrassing on any other day (Patrick had nearly laughed at the sight, but you’d insisted that you couldn’t just throw all of them away… they were nostalgic), but you’d never been more grateful until that moment.

You were already pretty well covered, thanks to the near life size bear sitting beside you— the perfect safety net. Your pulse was thundering in your chest, making you feel a little dizzy with anxiety or arousal, or a strange new mix of both.

You were burning hot between your thighs— throbbing and soaked all sticky and slick. Your legs twitched instinctively as your fingertips dipped into your core, where a pool of your arousal awaited. A shaky gasp escaped you as you moved your slick fingers up to your neglected clit, and you quickly muffled the noise into your pillow

It was like you’d never really touched yourself before. The level of need and desperation within you was completely unknown until that point. Your eyes rolled back as you began grinding up against your fingers. Your teeth dug into your lip to stay quiet as you played with your clit as discreetly as you could.

Patrick shifted to get more comfortable. Flexing his thighs just slightly, rubbing sweaty palms against the muscles there. He ashed his cigarette with his gaze locked on the TV. “This shit is so boring,” he muttered.

And fuck, his voice. You considered arguing with him, just so he’d get louder, and his voice would get more intense, and you’d be able to fuck yourself to completion to the sound of him speaking.

Your poor, neglected pussy clenched around absolutely nothing, begging to be filled by his dick, his fingers, your fingers, a toy, a hairbrush, fucking anything. Your panties were absolutely sodden— drenched to the point of forming a transparent little spot right above your cunt.

If Patrick had looked over, or, if he had unfocused his eyes just right and peered into the reflection of the TV screen, he would’ve been able to make out the sight of your fingers, moving steadily, desperately against your clit. If he had done that.

Your toes curled just slightly, thighs closing around your hand as you got closer and closer. It was loud— just how much you were moving. You needed— god, you needed so much in that moment. You grabbed a random plushie— a pink rabbit that you probably got with that years’ Easter basket— and held it over your lap. Yeah, that worked. Super casual, perfect way to hide the way your hand was working your clit.

And the pressure. Jesus Christ, the pressure of the warm stuffed animal over your cunt was too nice to resist. You’d have to throw it away after, you knew, but you couldn’t help but grind yourself up against it. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine it was his lap, or his thigh, or something warm and soft and hard for you to rut against.

But you couldn’t close your eyes, because you had to watch Patrick. To make sure he didn’t know what you were doing. An arm slung behind his head, the muscles highlighted by the shiny sheen of sweat there. You whimpered pathetically, muffled into the pillows. He probably heard, he pretended he didn’t. It was that level of feigned ignorance that let you keep going.

He probably knew, you could pretend he didn’t. The razor’s edge between you and a much needed, earth-shattering orgasm hinged on that level of ignorance.

So you pathetically humped against your fingers, and the stuffed rabbit, and chased at the bliss that was so fucking close you could taste it like metal on your tongue. Your thighs squeezed around the rabbit as you came, soaking through and making even more of a mess of your panties, and the rabbit, and your sheets, and your fingers.

You hadn’t realized how loud you were breathing. It was like someone had been holding you underwater and you could only just now hear the world with a shocking sense of clarity. Your body felt hot all over, your legs felt like jelly. You hid the stuffed rabbit beneath a discarded blanket, a problem for later. Legs crossed so you could hide the soaked mess between your legs.

Sure, you could play that off.

“You could’ve asked me to leave,” Patrick said around his cigarette. There was a twist to his lips, a sense of amusement. “Nah, you probably didn’t want me to. Too busy eye fucking me while you defiled that poor little bunny.”

He stood, noticeably hard in his shorts, which you weren’t looking at weren’t looking at weren’t looking at. He grabbed your ankles and pulled your legs apart, all while wearing the smug sort of expression that got you to this position in the first place. Really, it was all his fault. His eyes trailed up your legs, to the glistening mess coating your upper thighs, and the sheer mess of your panties.

“Huh.” His hands moved up your thighs and you exhaled shakily, parting them more to accommodate him, whatever he wanted, whatever he was thinking. You could come a thousand more times just for him, at his every whim. But that was the repression talking, not just because of him.

Your breath caught as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and he peeled them down. His expression held the same sort of concentration that you saw him exhibit on the court. Focused on you, it made your heart pound.

“No wonder you were so loud, huh?” He teased, fingers gliding through your slit. It was embarrassing how wet you were, coating his fingers and palm in your arousal. Each light brush against your clit made your thighs twitch, made a desperate keen escape you. “I could hear it the second you started, by the way. But even before that, I could fucking smell how turned on you were. You could’ve said something, you know. I would’ve taken care of you, made it real nice.”

You moaned softly, eyes wide as you peered up at him. When he removed his hands from your pussy you fucking whined— pouting as he held his fingers up to the light and grinned at the glistening mess left behind. You watched those fingers disappear between plush lips, tongue sweeping out to clean them up. His cock jumped behind the shorts he wore from want.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” you insisted, sitting up to rub him through the fabric. “It’s hot, we’re both horny and bored. Just use me. It’ll feel nice.”

He didn’t take much convincing. He’d been rubbing his dick raw on that stupid fucking inflatable mattress every night when you were asleep anyway. How could he not? You were just too adorable.

@poppy-metal your mind amazes me no words no thoughts just this <3 thank youuuuuu for this in my inbox it truly kept me fed

[ordinaryschmuck]

Here's an interesting take about Fionna and Cake that I kind of love.

In Fionna and Cake's universe, now dulled by Simon's sane mind, everyone is totally fine living their dull and mundane life.

Gary might not be a rich prince and Marshal might night be a badass vampire, but they're content with the lives they have and the possible future plans they could share together.

Characters like Hunter, Ice Queen, Flame Prince, and several human reflections of the people in the Land of Aaa might not be as magical as they once were, but they have jobs that are perfectly fine for them and they have no issues living life as is.

And Ellis might be a trash hobo...but that's probably no different from his magical life if it's in anyway similar to LSP's.

The only people who have problems with their mundane life are Fionna and Cake. They're fine with their world and the friends they have in it (at least in Fionna's case), but they're both dreaming for MORE. It's as if, despite EVERYTHING changing, Fionna and Cake still maintained their thrill for adventure and lust for a magical life, which sounds so perfect. I mean, they were the protagonists of their own epic stories, only to now live a life where everything's the same and perfectly mundane. It's as if despite this massive, universe change, Fionna and Cake still has something deep inside them that reminds them exactly who they are and what they SHOULD be.

Also--And this just occurred to me--I love how Fionna and Cake are living the EXACT lives Simon wants and vice versa. As the Cheers theme song perfectly conveys, Simon wants to go to a place where everyone knows your name and the people are the same. Instead, he's forced into a magical world that he feels he doesn't belong in, despite there being people still in his life that gives it meaning. Simon doesn't want more, he wants LESS, acting as a perfect opposite towards Fionna and Cake.

This results in a dynamic of the three of them searching for what they want, only to realize that it's not what they NEED for a happy life. Simon NEEDS to learn that he can live a normal life despite its tragedy. Fionna and Cake NEED to learn that they don't need adventures and magic to be happy. It's only through each other and the adventures they go on that they can learn this, and if that's really where the show's going, I'm ALL in.

[c0ld0utside]

Hi! I wanted to request a script with a mermaid reader. Something like a cub that doesn't look like the others, maybe sharp teeth, maybe something else, whatever you want. + a fisherman who accidentally caught them. You don't have to write this if you don't like the concept!

No, no you're onto something! This request is PERFECT AUGH-Fisherman Dad...is something I didn’t know I needed. 

Here’s your fun fact for the day: Piranhas can bark. 

Criticism is welcome!

Warnings (Let me know if I missed any): Reader/MC gets hit, Blood, Reader/MC gets gagged, Reader’s/MC’s hands get bound, Reader is put in a box

Growing up in his small port town, Cannon heard stories of sea monsters and their relatives. Mermaids, Sirens, Leviathans, Serpents, Krakens…the list goes on. Now that he’s an adult, however, he knows those were just stories parents told their kids to warn and teach them. Don’t go to the beach at night, don’t swim too far out, swim with a group, wear lifejackets.

If those beasts really do exist, he wonders how they handle storms as shitty as this one. Lightning and thunder clashed overhead and the rain poured down in tubs. The waves were large and rough, going way farther than they normally did at high tide. Ah well. Cannon’s just glad his boss is sane enough to not make him and his coworkers work in that mess. 

Feeling like an old man despite being in his mid-thirties, Cannon stood up, popped his back, and headed off to bed. Hopefully, the conditions will be better by tomorrow. He doesn’t want to go to work on a rainy day.

…

…It’s raining. It’s not as bad as yesterday, but it’s raining. At least that means the catches will be good today. 

Speaking of good catches, Cannon isn’t sure if he’s hallucinating. He didn’t bring someone with him since he wasn’t going too far out, so he had no one to ask. Normally, when a fisherman pulled up their nets, they got fish. Or none at all. 

“Easy, easy…it’s alright,” Cannon says, mostly to himself. This is fine. Totally normal. Maybe this is a crazy dream and he’s going to wake up late. Cannon moves away to grab a knife and crouches back down next to the wet gremlin. “Not gonna hurt you,” He whispers, hooking the blade under the rope where it’s pressing into the fish kid’s neck. 

What Cannon has in his net is half a fish and half a kid. A fish kid. A fish kid that looks like a mess, and who is currently hissing at him like a rabid possum and snapping at the wet ropes. Snapping. Like a piranha. Are they a piranha? He can see the pearly, pointy whites from where he’s standing, holding the rope down so the net stays in the air. The creature continues to thrash and hiss and bite. 

He lowers the net and moves it onto the deck, careful to avoid the rabid little monster that is going insane. Cannon can’t blame them. If he was a little fish kid caught in a net while bruised up he’d be freaking out too. 

The brat twists their head and bites down. Letting out a startled yelp, Cannon uses his other hand to smack them and pulls away. Yikes…it’s ugly and the blood is streaming down his hand, making a mess. “I just said I wasn’t gonna hurt you, bonehead,” He grunts, using his good hand to hold their head down while he cuts them free. 

He’s caught off guard again when they push themself out of the net and start scrambling over to the edge of the ship. The kid’s tail flops around and drags as they try to get away. It hurts- Cannon can tell from the way the thing whimpers and hisses. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” He tuts, grabbing some of the rope and walking over to the small fry. Small fry? He’s not thinking straight. Are there major arteries in hands? Maybe he’s losing too much blood from the bite.

Grabbing onto their tail firmly with his good hand, Cannon tries to gently pull them back. ‘Small Fry’ has different ideas, because they start screeching and barking like a madman. Their mouth snaps at open air over and over as they flail around. “Hey- hey, shhh, shhh…” He tries to soothe, but it doesn’t work. 

Cannon was really hoping he wouldn’t have to do this. He doesn’t like what he’s about to do, but he has to. He shoves some of the rope into the kid’s mouth and wraps it around their head. He doesn’t make it too tight- they’re hurting enough as is. Before the kid can rake their claws- they have claws- down his arms, he grabs their hands and ties them together. 

“Sorry, Small Fry, you’re not making this easy.” 

He gets muffled snarling and barks in return. 

“Can you breathe, little buddy? Can you understand me? …No? Alright, that’s…fine.” Cannon murmurs, looking down at their tail. Oh yeah. They weren’t going to be able to swim with that. Their fin is torn and there’s an ugly cut running up the tail. Not to mention those bruises from earlier. 

“I can’t let you go just yet, Small Fry. You’re a mess, see?” Cannon says, pointing to their tail. Their gaze follows his and their glare hardens. “Don’t give me that. I’ll patch you up, alright? Now be nice.” 

With that, Cannon grabs an empty tub and dips it into the water before pulling it out and securing it onto the deck. He then walks back over to the little monster, scoops them up, and carefully lowers them inside. 

He is so glad it’s still early. Barely anyone will be on the streets. He’s also glad it’s cloudy- had it been sunny people would have seen the silhouette of a small mermaid in a closed fish container as he drives back home in his truck. 

He’ll figure this out later. Right now it’s finally settling in that he just accidentally caught a mer…maid? Merchild? Yeah. A merchild. He caught a merchild and he’s taking them home. A merchild that bit him. The bandage work on his hand is messy. He'll change it when he gets home.

And half of him doesn’t want to let them go. They’re so…reckless. It’s no wonder they got so banged up. Wait- no, maybe it was the storm. Still, they need help and they don’t understand. They don’t get to not want help. They’re getting it because he said so and he doesn’t know how mer society works, but he cares.

-

Feel like making a part two for this as well. 

You’re looking fine today! Take your vitamins!

[goodluckclove]

Some Loose Thoughts on Queer Rep (Specifically Aspec Rep)

(Just in advance I'm going to dunk on Alastor from Hazbin Hotel like a lil' bit, as a treat. Mainly the team that made him and what he represents, but still. If that's rage bait for you, I suggest maybe dipping out now)

I have a theory that queer media needs both queer characters and queer genre characters. The difference is very important.

I think a queer character would be a character in a story about their queerness. For some reason the only two characters I could think of are the guy from Love, Simon (What was his name again?) and the protagonist from Rubyfruit Jungle, which should express the weird and complicated relationship I have with this particular archetype.

Queer stories centered around queerness are definitely needed, but at the same time I feel like we're just starting to come to terms with the desperate need for the alternative, which are queer characters in genre media that contain overarching plots larger than their sexuality. Not separate, necessarily (Their queerness certainly influences things), but just beyond. This is more accessible for a variety of artists, which is also the reason why it can be a flop or a massive success.

We get more of this than ever for gay and sapphic characters, as well as some trans folks and occasionally non-binary. It's definitely way less seen in aspec characters, and even less respected. I started thinking this way because the internet is flooded with references to fucking Alastor from Hazbin Hotel as an aroace character and - like - god, I don't get it.

Like you can have your serial killer comfort character, that's fine. But latching onto him as representation for the entire aspec community when he was only confirmed to be aroace through a reference in a livestream and the weakest joke onscreen is pretty disheartening. It definitely reads like this part of his identity was added pretty late in his character development, and by a team of people that didn't seem to consider what the response and reaction would be and how they'd handle it.

I also wish the newest aspec icon in media wasn't created by a team so adamant on encouraging shipping culture above actually respecting the identity they've decided to provide representation for. Like I see it means a lot to people to have an aroace character doing something cool in a fun TV show that doesn't necessarily have anything to do with their identity. Then there's like four other people right behind that person who really wants that person to be romantic and fuck.

And like, yeah, aroace people can do that sometimes. It's a spectrum, I know. But can't we start with a baseline representation before providing proof of fluidity?

I just think we deserve better. Like a character who in the media is established to be aspec, and people are like "great" and move on to fight robots or do magic or whatever. And the person can be morally grey, or even a total dick, but like I'd personally prefer something with a little more depth than Hot Topic genericism.

Like don't get me wrong, I'll take some sort of eldritch horror as my representation, but...make him at all horrifying? Like everyone talks about how he has Eldritch powers, which I know to mean unfathomable and maddening. But I've seen everything he does in the canon of the show and it is both incredibly fathomable and makes me feel normal and sane. Yog-Sothoth this man is not.

But yeah, I don't think there's a solution here besides more aspec artists creating aspec characters in their work. That way people can still like Alastor if they want, but he's not like the only viable option in terms of representation in the media. Let me see lovingly-crafted cool guys and dipshits and chaos goblins and little babies and True Horrors, all of whom have varying degrees of distaste or indifference towards sex and romance.

Do it. We need it. Please.

[arabian-batboy]

I try to not pay one second of attention toward Zionist account during this on-going genocide because I know that at a time like this, wasting time arguing with trolls who desperately want to diverge everyone's attention from Israel's crimes and the death Palestinians to having childish online arguments.

But no matter how many years it pass, I still can't comprehend that till this day most Israelis believe that they're the real victims of what's going on and that they're totally alone against the entire world, even the most "moralist" of them will only go as far to say "fine! I guess both Israelis and Palestinians are equally victims here," but they will never for a second consider acknowledging that they're the complete oppressors who are committing every single crime known to man on Palestinians regularly for 75 years straight. In their mind, Palestinians (the ones whose corpses are being collected from the rubbles left of Israel's bombs) are the ones who want to commit a genocide and kill every Jew in the world, while they (the ones who are sending those bombs) are the ones who simply want to live in peace and don't want to kill anyone, but they have to because Palestinians forced them to do this.

Zionism is a legit mental illness that should be studied by psychologists for centuries to comes, there's absolutely no way a sane person can live in an ethno-settler-colony that deems them to be racially-superior to people of other races/religions and see thousands of the native people being regularly killed, tortured and raped so that they can live comfortably in their houses, then go online to talk about theirs life is in danger and everyone should feel sorry for them and if you don't believe that they're victims of what's going on then you're also an anti-Semite who want every Jew in the world dead.

Then again, having an unparalleled victim-complex might be crucial to maintaining a settler-colony, because a normal human being with a heart shouldn't be capable of witness everything that's happening in Palestine and attempt to make it about them/put the blame on anyone in existence except for Israel.

Anyways, they can cry that they're the victims in hell all all they want, but they're not leaving it no matter what.

[dior-luxury]

What if... a new person comes to NRC/College in general. This new person catches the eyes of y/n, and this makes the characters get really jealous? This with Floyd, Rook, Cater, Sebek (Separate) please! Love your fics and keep up with the good work Valerie 💝(hope you don't mind me calling you by your name)!!!! 😊 Lastly can I be 🍱 anon please? :)

A New Person Catches Their S/O Attention ! !

Note: Of course, I'll do this! Thank you for your praises 🍱 anon! Also it is totally fine by you calling me by my name (♡μ_μ)! Lastly I made some of them make the reader not being in a relationship them yet so... extra drama ;).

CHARACTERS: Floyd, Rook, Cater, & Sebek.

.

.

Floyd Leech :

Possessive x10.

Floyd is going to be extremely jealous and insecure at most. Why can't you see that he likes you? Did he not make it obvious? You´re basiclly hurting his very soul.

No one would be surprised if he gets extremely bold with you right now. Examples of that include: Kissing you or any other romantic stuff and even activating deep voice mode... (Floyd: *battle stance*)

But seriously, I don't think anyone would be surprised if this guy pulls out his magic pen or just uses his bare hand to fight. Like this guy is about to beat this guy's ass.

He's really about to through hands for you just looking at someone... not the best solution. He also takes into account that you ALSO have INTREST in that guy.

"Y/N. What about me? Am I not interesting?" You know stuff is about to go down when he doesn't use his iconic sea nicknames anymore.

If this goes on long enough, he isn't afraid to bite someone... bonus points if this happens when he's at the basketball club. He would for sure hit the guy in the back of the head with a ball. Not a lot of force- but you know that he is not happy.

(EXTRA points if he squishes them.)

But once again, possessive Floyd is not a force to be reckoned with. You can bet that this guy would exploit this situation and try to get all of your attention on him again.

Focusing on another mood of Floyd's... he also could be totally trivial about this whole scene. Like he would not care about this, usually, that happens 65% percent of the time...

- - -

Enjoy this mini-diagram I made <3; Technically speaking, if a situation like this happened... obviously these are just percent's and not totally equal lol.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Possessive: 75%

Doesn't care: 65%

Violent: 50%

Doesn't notice: 25%

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Rook Hunt :

Rook is… almost normal.

He is the master of hiding any sort of negative emotion- and might be so good at it that he doesn't even realize it. Yes, he indeed will know how he feels about this all, but does he care about expressing negatives? No, he doesn't.

As a wise man once said, Rook only cares about beautiful things. With jealousy not being included. Plus, he's confident that you don't mean anything by this, your just like him- with how you are interested in someone.

Rook might be the only sane one, to be honest- when it comes to this… just kidding.

This man will not- stop- bothering you about this. He's really happy that his little trickster found someone to have a such fascination with! He's beyond proud.

Even though likes you, he won't get in the way of your feelings. He might be overthinking this whole thing, but he wouldn't be lying if he got exposed for covering his feelings- by bothering you about your own.

Though he would ask for clarification if you had any feelings for the guy you were interested in. Even if so, he is ready to help in anyway he can~

. . . Okay now, what if I told you that was partially true? If we're talking about how he's feeling on the inside anyways. The 100% is surrounded by burning jealousy- it almost even hurts his very soul.

He waltzes over to the poor guy in a suffocating manner and tries to understand what you see in him.

If the student is smart enough to feel scared by Rook, they will make it out alive. If not- then you would have to hear the comments from Rook that sound too good to be true. He's from now on keeping a very close eye on your or anyone else behavior…

But of course, he will not show it.

Cater Diamond :

Cater for sure does not show it- but he’s quite upset with this.

Basically in his mind, he already feels you like him, so it’s no wonder why he is feeling dejected. But- he also isn’t used to having such feelings for someone, and it all makes him second-guess things.

Even if you had no- whatsoever, romantic intention with him, he’ll over-read your kindness and think that you like him. Not ever being rational- and I mean, never.

Though as much as he wants to- he doesn’t ever want to use any sort of realism or even anything to clarify that he is only dreaming. Only because it just takes his feelings and confidence away from him.

His mind takes him to a more negative place and makes him believe- or think negatively. Then shortly he would begin to feel bad about ‘dreaming’, of your ‘very obvious’ feelings for him.

Even though Cater is a typically cherry person on the exterior, I can very much envision him almost losing his cool. He is practically even death glaring at the guy you seem to be looking at.

But of course- those feelings will only be in the insides, not wanting to disclose any of his emotions… which his emotions end up being, pure-utter-jealousy.

Basically what I’m trying to say… Cater is not the type to be as protective on the outside, but he is extremely down to throw hands with this student.

Not really saying that he will act on his more violent feelings… but he is very close that he might even. It all only depends on if he is pushed more to act on it.

And just saying… you might have to get Trey to hold back Cater from harming- or even go as far to to just malign the poor guy on the internet.

Sebek Zigvolt :

He’s jealous but ten times more.

If you think that his protectiveness around Malleus was bad, try to add his, lovesick, clingy, and overprotectiveness to the also. As if having all of these traits aren’t bad enough already.

It is no wonder why I feel so bad for the guy you just have an interest in, you have a growling- Monsieur Crocodile, glaring at his ‘opponent’. He has some courage- and possessiveness to be yelling at some random guy. Thanks to this he now views him as an extreme threat. It really doesn’t matter if his ‘rival’ is a human or beastmen, he would still yell at them either way.

In his mind he can’t really help himself, I mean he was raised as a knight, one that’s supposed to protect the ones he cares for. That’s why he can’t help himself when he gets visibly mad when you look at someone in ‘awe’. It might also be the case where he wants you to look at him. why- not some random student who you haven’t even met before.

It’s almost like a curse of how he can’t be mature about this. It’s the first year curse of not using your head… it affects more than others. Basically he just doesn’t use his head and instead uses his emotions.

After class has ended… he then gets up from his desk and marches straight out of the door. Walking towards the scared and confused student, who has done nothing but exist.

I think he is too possessed by his emotions to not even feel any sort of remorse about this. Let’s all thank Lilia for the cause of this. Speaking of this, let’s talk about how pretty- if not, extremely lucky to have captured his attention, since it is not an easy thing to do.

But seriously, he really can't help but want to protect you from any cruel being in this world. That being, if we’re going to get in more detail on how he feels about this, even when he is very confused about this, he could call this feeling ‘forced confusion and anger’.

Which it also could be making his new feeling, which everyone knows as only 'jealousy'. This feeling makes his heart clench. It's like a swarm of dark energy involved in his system. Like black ink cursing a magical pen… or however you must describe it.

[hils79]

Hils Watches Lovely Runner - Ep 4

HE SAVED HER AFTER THE CAR ACCIDENT I KNEW IT!

AND HE KNEW WHO SHE WAS WHEN THEY MET ON THE BRIDGE! Okay, that I did not see coming.

This is clearly going to be an excessive capslock episode I'm very sorry.

This whole scene hits different now that you know that he's been in love with her since he was in school, and that she's the reason he likes those sweets in the first place. I love this so much!

WAIT THAT'S JONGHO SINGING! OMG I know the song but I totally forgot it was from this drama. I am such a bad Atiny. Has this song played before and I just haven't noticed?

I am going to say that I'm going to be a bit annoyed if it turned out someone pushed him or something. It'd feel almost like saying 'we can't have a romantic lead who suffers from depression' or something like that. But I shall reserve judgement until we see how it plays out. I mean stuff keeps changing because of the time travel stuff anyway. Just a thought I had was all.

I understand the logic of trying to exactly recreate the situation that sent her back into the past last time but I'm not sure lying in a river in the middle of the night was part of the magic

Calling it now this dude killed him because Sunjae wanted to retire. I have absolutely no foundation for this theory beyond knowledge of drama tropes but that's what I think

I know that you're grieving for your best friend but why would you say something cryptic like this and then just hang up without explaining when she asks what you mean

Ah, the magic only works at midnight! That makes sense. As much as anything to do with magic makes sense. I still don't understand what caused her to come back to 2023 in the first place though. Is it because Sunjae told her he loves her even if she didn't hear it?

Oh no she remembers what happened while she was back in 2023 including rejecting Sunjae and hitting him with her bag. OH NO.

This poor boy though. The girl he likes has what seems like a total personality change, tells him to get lost, and then a week later she's back to the way she was again.

Oh, yeah, him. Love him calling her 'girlfriend' rather than her name just because Sunjae is standing right there

When you find out your 19 year old past self is totally cringe

He's handling the whole personality switch thing far better than Sunjae is

This is so funny I thought for sure she was going to be the one who inspired him to become a singer and instead she's doing whatever she can to make sure he doesn't become an idol to protect him.

Of course there's a bully. There's always a bully. He can be friends with the bitchy girl who hates Im Sol.

Oh, punch him!

Holy fuck she just headbutted him before Sunjae could even land a punch. I love her so much.

Ah, I see. She saved him from his bully and now he's going to save her from hers

Scrap that she saved herself because she's awesome

Oh that's so smart she yelled a bunch of stuff about the future so time froze and she could sneak past Sunjae's dad

I love that even though she knows Sunjae as a friend now she still goes into fangirl mode sometimes. It's so cute.

Really can't relate to what a heavy sleeper she is. This is, what, the second or third time she's been asleep while he's been there and hasn't woken up at all. I'd have been awake as soon as he opened the bedroom door.

God he's so adorable. Look at him comparing their hand sizes.

The only time he ever looks happy now that he can't swim is when he's with her. I'm fine. I'm definitely not crying.

So she gave him the advice that he gave her. Does that mean he only knew to say it to her because said it to him in the first place? My head hurts 😂

I mean they can. You just can't be friends with this particular girl because you're in love with her

This is honestly making all the cringe stuff I did as a teen seem totally sane and normal

Okay, what's with the sus taxi that was going to stop and then pulled away when the driver saw that Im Sol wasn't alone?

He's all wet again. And, hey, she's remembered that he was the one who saved her after her accident

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total$hit$how: Hail Mary

in which Benji tries to make a friend

cw: referenced torture/interrogation, death mention, adult language

previous /// masterlist /// next

×~×~×

They were summoned to the briefing room instead of the training bay that morning, and Benji stumbled through the door sleepy and uneasy, stuck with a pit in his stomach that had formed the second Vic pushed play on the video. It hadn’t exactly gotten worse since, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

He was happy Sahota was safe and not-currently-being-tortured, he was, but he didn't know how to respond to the whole situation. What did you say to someone who'd just escaped a brutal interrogation session? Literally hours ago? It wasn't the kind of event they made greeting cards for.

After last night, he could kinda get why their trainer was so intense all the time. What kind of sane person went through that and then, as Kaius said, just walked it off? Vic was right. None of them were used to he and Sahota's brutal lifestyle, least of all Benji. Even after Sahota had made it back, he'd still had nightmares about that stupid video. And as much as he felt bad for the guy, he was still every bit as scary as he'd always been. Maybe scarier.

Benji hoped their trainer wouldn't be in the meeting at all, that he'd take the day off, but he knew neither of them were that lucky. And sure enough, when he stepped into the briefing room to take a seat beside Kaius, their trainer was standing at the head of the table, looking over the contents of the Important Folder, face impassive as ever despite the bruises that covered it. 

Shit, how was he standing? It wasn't even like he had to stand; there were plenty of seats. Did he just like standing that much? Or was this some kind of posturing? A ‘yeah I'm tougher than you, so what?’ type of intimidation tactic. If it was, it was working.

Still, it only seemed polite to congratulate him on the whole not-being-captured thing.

Benji cleared his throat.

“How are you feeling on this fine morning?” he asked, trying to keep his tone lighthearted. He had the feeling Sahota wouldn't appreciate something as pitiful as concern.

“Fine,” he replied flatly, and that seemed to be the end of it.

“If I were you, I would've stayed in bed,” Benji tried, and didn't know why. The guy clearly wasn't in the mood to discuss it. Maybe this really was as common an occurrence as Vic had implied. Just another Tuesday morning.

“You're not me,” Sahota replied, his eyes glued to the folder in his hands.

Okay, he'd take the hint and shut up now. If there was one person he didn't want to see pissed off, it was Sahota. Well… Sahota and Vic. As friendly as he normally was, Vic had shown he could be pretty scary when he wanted, and every threat he made was backed up by the cold hard fact that their lives actually were in his hands.

Kaius was silent beside him, and Benji wondered if he'd been similarly shut down by their trainer. Probably not. Kaius had probably read the room a little better and been quiet from the start.

Joy and Jericho were the next to enter, and he heard one of them wince in sympathy.

“Sahota…”

“Shit, dude.”

If Sahota recognized their less-than-nuanced reactions at all, he didn't address it. “Take your seats. Once Harbor arrives, we'll go over the new findings.”

Joy sat beside Benji, and when he saw her start to open her mouth, he tried to nudge her under the table in warning, but she ignored him.

“You're not looking so hot,” she said. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“I'm fine,” Sahota replied.

“Like fuck you are,” Joy said. “Isn't there a medic or something on this base? You should—”

“I'm fine,” Sahota spat. “It's not your place to tell me what I should or shouldn't do, Cavan. If I hear any more insistent comments, I'll meet you all on the sparring mats after this.”

Jericho’s face turned a shade more worried. “Now?”

“You think I can't?” When no one answered, he snapped the folder shut and tucked it under his arm. “I'll thank you all to remain on track.”

His touchiness about the subject seemed like more than just annoyance. Was he embarrassed?

Benji got that. A feeling like scraping your knee as a kid and wanting to hide your tears from your friends. Only Sahota wasn't crying. Benji wasn't even entirely sure he was capable of such a feat.

The door swung open and Vic strolled inside, Harbor on his heels. They'd been spending a decent chunk of time together. Private tutoring, or whatever. Maybe more than just that, judging by the way Harbor looked at Vic like he was made of gold. Not really his business either way. If Harbor was happy cozying up to the scary spy man, Benji wasn't gonna judge him for it.

“Good morning, everyone. Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Benji said. What would happen if he did miss it? Would Sahota get in his face and threaten him again? Drag him out of bed? Would Vic coolly remind him that the alternative was prison?

“We've recently acquired new intel.” Vic crossed the room, taking the folder from Sahota and laying it in the center of the table. “Sahota will brief you, and then we'll be requiring some of your skills in order to refine it. Questions?”

A heavy silence answered him. Not even Joy raised her hand.

“Wonderful. I’ll leave you in his capable hands.” Vic clapped Sahota on the back, in a gesture that might’ve been friendly if it weren’t for the wounds Benji knew were hiding under his shirt. Their trainer stifled a yelp, his expression flickering from stony to pained, then back to stony in the blink of an eye.

“Ah, my apologies,” Vic said, though something in his voice had Benji wondering if he'd done it on purpose. Like some kind of inside joke. A little ‘gotcha’. Vic threw a smile at Sahota on his way out, closing the door behind him. Their trainer didn't acknowledge it.

Sahota moved to the table, opening the folder and fanning out its contents. It was only then that Benji saw the bandages on his right hand, carefully hidden in his jacket sleeve before now, binding three of his fingers together in a stiff white mass. When he glanced down, he saw a flash of white on his other hand, too.

Jeez.

“I’ve narrowed down our target to a single spot,” Sahota said, tapping one of the papers. “Rotorworx’s northwestern location. The Elysium Building.”

Benji swallowed down the unhelpful pang of sympathy that was attempting to shake him like a tambourine. Elysium. He knew of the place, vaguely. He wasn’t a city native, hadn’t even set foot in San Arbos before getting this bizarre excuse of a job offer, but when you’d been staging high-end robberies for over a decade, you tended to notice the shinier buildings when you wound up somewhere new.

Sahota slid a second paper from the pile. “They use a custom security program, but I managed to work out a few of the specs. Aside from that…” He pushed forward a third page. “I also compiled a list of names. Individuals who may be connected to the development of the Reality Cage.” He slid one page over to Jericho. “Davis, Cavan, I want you on security. See Vic about getting computer access.”

Jericho took the page, and Joy leaned over in her chair to peer at it over his shoulder.

Sahota passed the other paper to Kaius. “Manak, sift through the names and see if anyone listed is particularly relevant. Cross-reference with our database to find any knowns. We may be able to bribe an insider.”

Kaius’s expression darkened when Sahota added,

“Take Harbor with you.”

It was almost enough to make Benji chuckle, but not quite.

“Find out what you can,” Sahota finished. “We’ll reconvene at 1600.”

Each pair scurried off, assignments in hand, like elementary schoolers who’d just been tasked with a group project. Which left only Benji, shifting awkwardly in his chair as Sahota took the seat opposite him.

Shhhit, was he in trouble? He pored over any recent maybe-offenses, his stellar anti-confrontational brain at the ready to create an excuse or explanation or outright lie that would put him in the clear.

But… he hadn’t actually done anything, had he? Unless this was about how useless he’d been in the maze yesterday. Would Sahota even know about that?

“Um,” he began.

“Ruebin,” Sahota said at the same time, and Benji quickly shut his mouth.

“I need your skills for another task.” His hand dipped under the table, coming back with a little metal box, roughly the size of a zippo lighter. Its seam was so fine it was nearly invisible, a teeny-tiny lock on one end. A tubular cam in miniature.

“I’m guessing you want me to pop that open?” Benji said, holding out his hand. Sahota made no move to give him the box.

“Inside is a micro-USB with Elysium’s full floorplans on it. The box is titanium. Unable to be opened without the key or application of powertools. Brute force could destroy the intel within. The wrong key will destroy the lock and render it inoperable.”

Benji let out a low whistle. “That’s some real spy shit, huh?”

“I don’t currently have the finesse required to pick the lock,” Sahota continued, ignoring his comment in a way that Benji would normally consider rude, but since this was Sahota, it was pretty par for the course.

“What happened to the key?” he asked, deciding it was better to question that than Sahota’s lack of finesse. He already knew the explanation there.

“I had to destroy it.”

Benji raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t have, like, an extra one laying around here somewhere..?”

“Defeats the purpose of the real spy shit, doesn’t it?” Sahota muttered. “I need you to get it open.” At long last, he placed the box on the table and nudged it towards Benji. He picked it up, smooth metal still warm from Sahota’s palm.

“Hand tools are available for your use. Take all the time you need.” He laid a small leather booklet on the table, lockpicks the size of needles nestled within. “If you screw it up, chances are high that we lose the information inside.” His eyes met Benji’s, looking darker than usual against his bruised skin. “Don’t screw it up.”

Benji swallowed, closing the thing in his fist. “Roger that.”

It was bad enough being tasked with something that was both so critical and so easy to fuck up. It became a million times worse when Sahota made no move to leave, instead settling back in the chair across from him and sifting through the folder. 

Benji cleared his throat. “Um…”

“What?”

Benji shrugged. “I, ah, don’t usually do this for an audience,” he said. Not entirely true, but he wasn’t about to tell Sahota that he made him nervous. “My best work has always come out of solo acts, so if you wouldn’t mind…?”

“I do mind.” A paper rustled in his hand as he turned it over. “For the purpose of the mission, the contents of that box are top secret. I’m not letting it out of my sight.”

Benji let out a heavy sigh before he could stop himself, but if Sahota noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He set the box on the table and pulled the lockpicks closer. A half-diamond pick would probably be a good place to start, at least for probing. Benji twirled the tiny thing between two fingers, trying to plant his gaze on the lock itself, and not on the man across from him.

Fuck, Sahota’s presence just made him more anxious about this. Stupid or not, his brain found solace in distance, reasoning that if he did fuck up, at least he had a head start on running away. As it was, he was sitting closer to an arm’s length. Within punching distance. Hair-grabbing distance. Sahota had already done that once, and that had been for the crime of fake-surrendering. What would he do if Benji messed up some actually-critical shit?

He was almost too nervous to hold the pick right. 

Really, this was perfect. What was better than being stuck in a room with someone you were slightly terrified of? Being stuck in a room with someone you were terrified of but also kinda felt bad for, of course. If he hadn’t just watched Sahota get tortured, he might be able to sit quiet and pick the lock in an anxiety-fueled haze. If it were anyone else in his trainer’s position, he could just talk to them and make sure they were okay. But those two concepts just didn’t mix right, and the longer he sat in silence, the more the bizarre cocktail of worry and care and fear shook up inside him.

He had to say something. So far, none of them had really been conversational with their trainer, only interacting with him during the training itself. Maybe that was the root issue. Maybe a little chit-chat would make them both feel better, and kickstart Sahota’s defrost cycle.

“Crazy weather we’ve been having, huh?” Benji said, easing in the lockpick. A darting glance up told him Sahota was choosing to ignore the remark. Benji chose to ignore his ignorance.

“That was a joke,” he said. “Y’know, because I haven’t been outside in a week.”

Again, no response, but he didn’t look particularly pissed off, so Benji continued.

“Is this what your normal routine is like? 90-10, indoor-outdoor—?”

“Are you not capable of doing this quietly?”

Benji paused in his lockpicking endeavors. “Well no, not really. If I do have an audience, it’s polite to engage in conversation.” And for a lot of his sleight-of-hand tricks, it was necessary, a subtle distraction. It wasn’t like he was capable of fooling Sahota in this particular instance, but it sure made him feel more comfortable. If only he could say the same for his trainer.

“If you insist on talking, at least talk about something useful.”

“Like what?”

“Walk me through your steps. Recite fun facts. I don’t fucking know.”

“Or,” Benji said, swapping out picks, “we could get to know each other. Do you have a favorite food? Mine’s pad thai.”

He didn’t know how it was even possible, but Sahota’s glare got even more glare-y. “No.”

“No favorite food?” Were spies just quakers with guns?

“No, I don’t want to get to know you.”

Okay, ouch. “Not even a little bit? I mean I’m 20% of your prize team—”

“You’re a criminal we chose at random for your skillset and proximity,” Sahota said evenly. “You aren’t special.”

Wow. This was going so great. “And I suppose you are?”

“I’ve been doing this job for twelve years.”

Benji huffed. “Well I’ve been stealing and shit for like, ten. Can’t we agree that we’re both special in wholly unique ways?”

Sahota didn’t reply. Benji let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh, and set his attention back on the lockbox. He was almost tempted to try on the silence; the icy friend-rejecting attitude the other man wore so easily. But… in for a penny, in for a pound.

“How’d you get started on the job anyway?” he asked. “I doubt there’s many ‘help wanted’ signs out there for this gig.”

“I was recruited in the field,” Sahota answered after a pause.

“Recruited in the field,” Benji repeated. “Is that like, spy code for ‘recommended by a family member’, or..?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Were you recruited by Vic?”

“Yes.”

“So what, he just saw you in the field and was like, ‘I like the cut of your jib, kid’?”

“Yes.” 

Benji slumped forward on the table, careful not to jostle the lockpicks. “Okay. Cool.” The conversation piece was way harder to traverse than he would’ve thought. Sahota seemed hellishly determined to remain as frigid and distant as possible, but Benji had one final hail mary.

“Is the job like this a lot?”

Sahota didn’t look up. “Like what?”

He gestured vaguely at the other man. “That. Y’know, violent. Sending you home with bruises.”

The trainer’s eyes closed, the corner of his mouth tightening. “What did I say about—?”

“I’m not insisting on anything,” Benji said quickly. “Obviously you can handle it and obviously you’re fine, but… I don’t know. You’re our teacher. Part of the team, technically. Aren’t we allowed to worry a little bit?”

When Sahota didn’t answer, Benji sighed, taking up the lock again. He’d tried. So much for his supposed ‘get along with everyone’ superpower. The two of them sat in silence for a good several minutes, nothing but the tiny click of lockpicks at work and the faint, occasional rustle of a paper being turned over or tucked away.

“Chana dal,” Sahota said, and Benji looked up from his work, squinting at him in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You asked for my favorite food. Chana dal.”

“Oh.��� He nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good one, that’s… the one with the lentils, right?”

“Have you never tried it?” To his surprise, Sahota actually glanced up at him with the question.

“I probably have,” Benji said. “I just don’t fully remember.” He put on as harmless an expression as he could. “Have you ever made it here? Not to shit on Vic’s cooking, but it’s kinda… bland.”

He swore that almost got a smile out of Sahota. Almost. 

“Vic does what’s necessary,” he said. “I’ve made it before. Usually comes out decent, but nowhere near as good as…” He paused, dropping his eyes back to the papers, the muscle in his jaw tensing. “I’ve had better.”

“I probably haven’t,” Benji said, carefully breezing past whatever Sahota was trying to keep down. What had he been about to say? A name? A restaurant? Something he missed, probably, maybe a family member. Benji knew that ache well enough, but Sahota’s own wasn’t his business. Not yet. 

“Maybe you could make it for the team one of these days?” he said, readjusting the lockpick. “For luck.”

“Maybe.”

Click. The tiny metallic sound rang out from the box in his palm, and Benji looked down at it in surprise. 

“Shoot. I… I think I got it.”

Sahota leaned forward. “Really?”

Benji pressed his thumb into the top half of the little box, gently pushing it open. Inside, in a felt-lined compartment that looked like it was molded to be an exact fit, a micro-USB was nestled like a sleeping puppy.

“Quicker than I'd expected.” Sahota opened his palm, and Benji set the USB in it, box and all, freely wearing a proud smile.

Look at him go, using his skills for critical work and shit. “I told you I was special, didn't I?”

Sahota's expression shifted oh-so slightly, reflecting something that Benji could almost read as impressed if he squinted.

“I guess you did.”

~~

The others filed back inside eventually; Joy and Jericho with what he described as an ‘outline of an outline’ of a plan to hack the system, and Kaius with new notes written in the margins of the list he’d been given. Harbor trudged in after him, just as quiet as he’d been the last few days. Benji could’ve sworn the guy had been louder at the start, almost like he was trying to impress the rest of them with a wannabe-punk attitude. Maybe it had just been first-day nerves.

Kaius stepped forward to lay his paper flat on the table. 

“Our findings indicate every name on this list has some level of involvement with the Reality Cage,” he began. “Interns, security, research assistants, and the like. Of this group, one individual sticks out. Rebecca Finley.”

“What's so special about her?” Benji asked.

“From what we can tell, she's the only one who overtly operates outside the law. She's a supplier for rare metals, synthetic gasses, and other materials that may have been used to craft the Reality Cage. Of the listed individuals, she'd likely have the best idea of how to destroy it, and may well be familiar with the comings and goings of the Elysium Building.”

Benji shrugged. “You got me there.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Locate Finley. See if she'll cooperate.”

“If she doesn't?”

Kaius pressed his lips together. “We'll explore other options.”

On the far side of the room, Vic pushed himself up from the wall he was leaning on. “Finley doesn’t seem like the sort who’s willing to take a bribe.”

“She’s a direct line to Rotorworx's under-the-table technologies,” Kaius replied. “If we can’t bribe her, perhaps we can convince her in other ways.”

Vic rubbed his chin. “You could also kill her and steal whatever data she has on her person.”

Benji's mouth was suddenly dry. “Kill her? Like, kill her kill her?”

“I wasn't aware there was more than one variant,” Vic said, raising an eyebrow.

“Is… is that really necessary?”

“That method will get you answers far quicker than talking.”

Benji swallowed. “Okay, so maybe we should go after someone else?”

“Who else would you suggest, Ruebin?” Kaius asked, his eyes a level glare.

“Well, maybe no one. We've got the security info and the floorplans and the building. Isn't that enough?”

“You want to run in blind?”

“I want to not kill people.”

Kaius glanced at Vic briefly. “If that's our best option, it may be necessary. How do you plan on destroying it without insider intelligence? Hit it with a hammer?”

Something along those lines. “That usually works.”

“And just how many world-bending machines have you destroyed, Ruebin?”

“None, obviously, but I seriously don't think we need to—”

“Hey.” Joy held her hands in a time-out motion. “We can try and play it smart. Talk to Finley and figure out if she knows anything without revealing who we are”

Vic clicked his tongue. “And if she doesn't reveal anything herself, don't you think that's a waste of time?”

“I think it's worth a shot,” offered Benji, who really didn't want to have anything to do with the casual murder of someone.

Joy fixed her eyes on Kaius. “So? What's the plan? Do you have her address or something?”

“Or something,” Kaius murmured, tapping a line scrawled in pen on the paper. “A drop site. Supposedly where Finley picks up material requests from hopeful customers.”

And how exactly had Kaius figured that out? Seemed like a weird detail to find. Benji would've assumed a place of residence, or relatives, or even an officially listed job, especially if they'd had access to whatever database Sahota had promised.

“Material requests, hm?” Vic tapped at his chin. “Chances are you'd get more information from those than you'd ever be able to squeeze out of Finley.”

Kaius frowned. “I don't believe it's a literal drop site, just a meeting place.”

“Great,” Benji said through an exhale. “So let’s meet her there and talk.”

“We're on a tight schedule,” Vic said. “A fruitful interrogation is a drawn-out affair.”

“Whoa, I'm not even saying interrogate her," Benji said. "Why not just… y'know, have a conversation? Maybe she'll cooperate.”

“I can promise you, she won't,” Vic said. 

“You don't know that for sure—”

“I do. She makes a living off of dangerous deals with dangerous people.” He slid the sheet of paper away from Kaius, glancing it over. “She won't give anything up.”

“But—”

“Kill her,” Vic cut him off. “Or move on. We don't have time to waste.” He set the paper back on the table and turned his back, leaving behind a roomful of uncomfortable silence.

Benji glanced around, looking for someone to make eye contact with, someone he could pin with a silent, this is crazy, right? Kaius was looking at the paper, Harbor was looking at his hands, and Jericho and Joy seemed to have their eyes fixed on the floor, expressions undecipherable. Finally, his gaze landed on Sahota.

“We're… we aren't actually going to kill her, are we?”

“Pursuing her as a lead isn't necessary,” Sahota replied. “At the end of the day, it's up to you to decide what intel you'll need for the mission. You can disregard the list completely if it suits you.”

Kaius frowned. “You bled for it.”

“I've bled for less. There are other options.”

Joy let out a heavy sigh. “It sounds like we'd get the most from Finley. Why can't we just talk? She doesn't need to know why we want to know anything. We can just make something up. Pretend to be customers or some shit.”

“You heard Vic.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I'm not killing anyone.”

Jericho was already nodding. “What Vic doesn't know won't kill him, right?”

“You're underestimating what Vic is able to figure out,” Sahota said.

“At the end of the day, it's up to us to decide what we want, right?” Benji ventured. “You just said—”

“That doesn't mean going against orders,” Sahota shot back, moving to the table to collect the papers.

“Just let us talk to her,” Joy said.

“You think she'll listen? She'll see right through you.”

“Fine then.” Joy threw her hands up. “Maybe we will interrogate her.”

“It won't work.”

“Well you won't know that for sure if we don't try—”

“I do know for sure.” Sahota dropped the folder onto the table, looking like he was about to follow Vic out the door. “Like Vic said. You can kill her, or—”

“How do you know?” Joy stood. “You might be smart, and a ruthless operator, and all that shit, but you don't know all there is to know about us.”

Sahota stopped. “You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He turned around, sweeping the room with a cool gaze. Benji wasn't sure he liked where this was going. Sometimes he wished Joy wouldn't push the envelope. They'd probably be fine if they listened to Vic and just left it alone, they didn't need need Finley, did they?

“Show me what you've got,” Sahota said. “If you can prove me wrong, I'll let you try it. If you can't, I'll kill Finley myself.”

Joy frowned. “So, what? You want me to have a conversation with you?”

“No.” He rolled his shoulders like he was warming up for something, and Benji couldn’t help but cringe at the next words that left his mouth.

 “I want you to interrogate me.”

×~×~×

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday

[fantasy-relax]

Random facts in tidbits about the Dangerous Alpha and Sweet Omega universe and the characters ?

Buddy i can't do tidbits my brain refuses to.

Universe

Instincts work like a second conscience/ animal mind that evolves with age. The communication tend to be pretty simple but vary from person. Ex: Alcina Beta being fully capable of roasting her.

It's actually recommended to exercise/develop this part to be sane emotionally and mentally and to have safe coexistence/community. Ex: the outside world vs the village.

Male omegas and Female alphas have the biggest % that experience body dysmorphia and dysphoria because of the mutation they undergo in the presentation, giving them genitals typically assigned to the other gender, sometimes they will seek surgery even if that means giving up biological children and undergoing an stressful treatment.

Characters

Alpha R is actually very observant, scent is a good way to tell how someone is feeling but normally is hidden under layers of others smells so she learned to avoid fights.

Daniela wanted to be Omega and Bela didn't care at first but after years of hearing how she has all the characteristics of a perfect stereotypical omega she feels a little conflicted.

Cassandra's temper is heavily influenced by the neglect of her instinct.

Karl may be gruffy and hobo looking but is actually a good alpha, in his ruts he travels to the other lords territories to repair whatever they need, grumbling all the way but is done out of love and care. He is just a fucking tsundere.

Miranda is also searching for a cure for Moreau's brutal mutation, she feels a lot of guilt as she implanted more than one cadou to try to cure his illness, initially worked fine then things ended fishy.

Cassandra closes the door in her mind most of the time but she still can hear the screams of her omega. Donna sedate her own she can't hear anything.

Donna just doesn't feel the effects as Cassandra does because she uses her powers to suppress her instincts and Angie as an outlet. the moment she lets go she is extremely emotional, needy and clingy her detached/cold/uninterested behavior vanishes totally.

Want more information? PLEASE ASK I NEED THE FUEL.

[paperlunamoth]

The fully sane to fully insane TRA progression:

"I'm a man, but I don't feel comfortable actively conforming to traditionally masculine gender roles."

Nothing wrong with that! Gender is bullshit anyways.

"I'm a man, but I feel more comfortable actively conforming to traditionally feminine gender roles."

Cool. You do you.

"I'm a man, but I have a mental disorder that makes me deeply uncomfortable with being male. In addition to presenting and acting in a traditionally feminine manner, I would like to be recognized socially as a woman and addressed as 'she/her' in order to more easily manage the distress that results from my condition."

Okay. That's fine I guess.

"I'm a woman who was incorrectly identified as male at birth. I am not meaningfully distinct from biological women and therefore am entitled to exist in single sex, female only spaces, and to speak on behalf of women as a group. Women as a class should change the language they use to discuss their bodies and their oppression in order to make me more comfortable even though many of such discussions necessarily do not involve me. Women are to blame if I am the victim of male violence, especially women who are concerned about the issue of male violence. If I don't have access to a lifetime supply of medically unnecessary hormones and receive multiple invasive cosmetic surgeries in order to make my body appear more female, I will become suicidal, but also I am not mentally ill. Calling my condition, which causes me daily psychological distress, a mental illness is hate speech."

Um...

"What even is a woman, anyways? I know I'm a woman, because I identify as a woman, and that's what it means to be female. Gender isn't real and doesn't exist. But also transgender identities are real and valid and trans women are discriminated against because their gender is female. Sex is an arbitrary nonbinary social construct just like gender, also sex has nothing to do with gender. But also I would like my penis to become a vagina in order to alleviate my gender dysphoria. Sex based oppression isn't real, only gender based oppression is, and it is a totally random coincidence that the concept of gender happens to benefit the penis people at the expense of the vagina people 99% of the time. The existence of intersex birth defects demonstrates that humans are not a gonochoric species. No one is born male or female. A clitoris is just a very tiny penis, and a penis is just the outie version of a vagina, and sex organs don't determine whether someone is male or female. I still really want a vagina specifically though because I am female and females have vaginas. Homosexuality has nothing to do with sex and being exclusively same sex attracted is morally wrong. I think minors should be allowed to take cross sex hormones and receive cosmetic surgery but also no one is saying that shut up stop lying. I don't have a mental illness, that would be bad and gross, I'm perfectly normal and dysphoria is perfectly healthy, and you must literally want me to die if you think otherwise, how dare you be so hateful towards mentally ill people. Not giving in to my every demand and actively catering to my desires is literally partipating in genocide. Choke on my cock and die you misogynist!"

...

[weirdsillycreature]

For some reason I've been feeling stressed lately

I feel that someone will accuse me of something bad like they did in the past, I feel that one of my acquaintances distanced themselves from me because of some mistake of mine, I feel that I cannot sleep well even under the effect of my medications, I can barely eat, and if I do it in a while I will feel like I want to vomit, my fingers are quite hurt since I am biting them because of my nerves, I barely feel calm

I don't understand what's happening, everything is going well! Why does this happen when everything is supposed to be fine? I thought I had everything under control

Maybe my mood stabilizer isn't doing the same thing, or possibly I'm overreacting, I just need to take my meds and tough it out

(I can't live without the pills anymore. I have to always take them. At this point I'm totally dependent on those little colored capsules that keep my mind sane. I hate the pills, but I can't give them up. They're some kind of curse that I'll live with for the rest of my days.)

(I just want to be normal and stable.)