#got them at a really good discount remember to always keep an eye out and budget for these things

[t-u-i-t-c]

i have more gaim merch than you think i would and a lot less sentai merch than you think i would

[bullet-prooflove]

Good People: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Takes place after:

The Farm - Carmy recalls the day you met.

Prequel to:

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

Everyone knows that Carmy has a thing for the farm girl. It’s the way his attention shifts when your name is mentioned, the fact it’s him that signs for the orders and no one else. They watch as he asks about your day and raise their eyebrows when he stands there and actually listens.

“You may as well be giving her fuck me eyes.” Richie says as he tries to wrestle The Beef t-shirt onto an inflatable hotdog in Jimmy’s backyard.

The two of them are setting up for that ridiculous kid’s party, hoping to knock a couple of grand off the debt Mikey owed him.

“I don’t have fuck me eyes.” Carmy mutters, focusing on slicing the oranges for the homemade Ectoplasm he’s made because Unc’s kid is nuts about Ghostbusters.

“Oh you do. You fucking do.” Richie argues as he pulls out the duct tape. “It’s probably the reason we’re getting such a discount, she likes the way you shake that pasty white ass underneath that little apron of yours.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” He snaps at Richie, launching a piece of fruit at the back of  Richie’s head. It smacks him right on the dome and the other man turns to face him furious.

“What the fuck is with you?” Richie retorts, throwing it back. “Last month you got the shit kicked out of you by a guy dressed like a carrot, now you’re whoring yourself out for cucumbers. You’ve got issues man, big ones.”

Carmen really has nothing to say to that because honestly if he had to whore himself out to keep this business going, he probably fucking would. That’s exactly where his self-respect is right now, rock fucking bottom. It’s the reason he’s out here in the fucking suburbs slinging gourmet hot dogs for little monsters have no fucking clue how the real world works.

“I hate you.” He tells Richie as he throws himself back into his work the same way he always does. “I fucking hate you.”

It’s an hour later that Richie does the uncharacteristic thing and apologizes. Carmy thinks it’s probably got something to do with the Xanex he took about an hour ago.

“I shouldn’t have said that about Alice.” Richie says, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. “She’s good people.”  

“Yea she is.” Carmy responds as he starts to make up another hotdog. “She’s helping us out in a bind because she’s a good person. It’s got nothing to do with my ass.”

Richie tilts his head from side to side as he pulls the bottle of Xanax out of his coat pocket and spills another tablet into his palm.

“It’s a little to do with your ass.” Richie tells him as he takes the pill, washing it down with a cup of Ecto.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carmy asks as he puts the finishing touches on his masterpiece.

“It means for some fucked up reason she likes you.” Richie responds, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why, you’re basically a fucking mop with eyes but she does and you should really do something about that.”

“Like what Richie?” Carmy retorts, turning to face him, his hands coming to rest on his hips. “I run a sandwich shop that’s failing so badly I had to pay for our meat order with change out the arcade machine thirty days ago, I’ve got jack shit to offer anyone right now.”

“I’m just saying you deserve to be happy.” Richie says as he leans back against the fold up table, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. “Mikey would have wanted you to be happy.”

Carmy doesn’t know what Mikey would have wanted because Mikey, he’s not here to tell him.

“That second Xanex just kicked in didn’t it?” Carmy remarks, changing the subject and Richie exhales, nodding his head.

“Oh yea, big time. I don’t feel a fucking thing.”

It’s on the way home, that Carmy starts to think about what Richie said, about you, about being happy.

Sitting in those fields at your farm on his days off, shooting the shit with you. It’s the closest thing to contentment he’s felt in years. If he was a better man, someone less mentally ill, he’d consider pursuing it but honestly he’s a fucking mess. He wouldn’t wish himself on any woman especially you.

“You’re punking out aren’t you?” Richie says from the passenger seat as he watches the world go by outside.

“No.” Carmy says, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “She just deserves better than an asshole like me.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[missvelvetsstuff]

Just A Number

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist.

Notes: Since most stories are younger readers I felt like having a more mature reader could be a nice change of pace. Especially since I'm creeping up on senior discounts and want to believe Bucky could fall in love with someone like me.

I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female, tall and this one is obviously 40+

**I'm so sorry this has taken so long. Life has been rough and I've had a hard time focusing on anything besides survival.

I hope it was worth the wait.

Chapter 7

Bucky shot up out of bed at the sound of his phone ringing. "Fuck" he grumbled when he saw it was 4am and Sam was calling.

"Hey terminator, we have work to do. Meet me at Fort Hamilton asap."

Bucky grunted "Yeah." And went to take a shower and gear up. He was about to board the plane when he remembered he was supposed to see Y/N this week.

"Fuck" he swore to himself and pulled his phone out to send her a text.

'Sorry for the early morning text, doll. Sam needs me. I'll call asap. XO'

Bucky shook his head to clear his thoughts of her and focus on what Sam was saying as they boarded. All he caught was "-I don't like him either but we need to play nice." before he looked up to see his worst nightmare.

John looked up from his phone and grimaced when he saw Bucky. That look improved Bucky's mood instantly and he grinned at John.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"Morning Johnny! Long time no see! How the Hell have you been?" Bucky almost giggled as he slapped John's shoulder a little too hard.

John shot him a foul look "I don't know what you're so happy about. My nephew isn't going to put up with you ruining his mother."

Bucky's smile grew "He doesn't really have much say in the matter."

John scoffed "It figures you're ok with breaking up a family, taking a mother from her children."

Bucky couldn't help the laugh that broke through "From her children? They are both adults. He's 30 and his sister is looking forward to meeting me."

He looked John in the eye and winked "Better me than you."

Sam chuckled under his breath, happy to see Bucky's confidence up after his time with Y/N. Making John Walker squirm was just icing.

Before John could come up with a decent comeback, Torres came out to tell them they were taking off and to buckle up.

Once they were airborne Sam cleared his throat as he pulled up a map on the table and they started working out a strategy. John challenged everything Bucky said, throwing out some backhanded compliments for good measure. Bucky couldn't wipe the smirk off of his face which only angered John more, until he slammed his fist against the table, cracking the screen and reaching the end of Sam's rope.

"ENOUGH!" Sam shouted and turned to glare at John. "I don't give a single fuck about your problem with Bucky or what he's doing with your adult sister or how her adult kids feel about it. We're here to do a job and you need to get it together!"

John snapped "Fine" and looked at Bucky "But we need to talk once this is done."

Bucky shrugged "Whatever you say." still grinning.

Sam shook his head and finalized their plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N stepped out of her shower and got ready for work before looking at her phone to see if Pepper had any requests before she made it to the office. Her heart sped up when she saw there was a text from Bucky but fell when she read he was on a mission. She shook it off, Pepper usually kept her too busy to let her thoughts wander away from work.

When she went for coffee Dawn was at the table. Y/N told her about the text from Bucky which brought a laugh out.

Y/N glared at her "That's not very nice!"

Dawn coughed "On no, sorry Sissy. I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at our dear brother. I got a text from Olivia and Johnny was called in for a thing with Sam. Johnny must be thrilled to spend the next week with the two of them. I hope he doesn't let his temper get him into more trouble." She sighed "Anyhow, she's coming for dinner tonite. Poor thing sounded desperate to get out of the house."

Y/N shook her head "I'm sure he keeps her on a tight leash. Of all the people you and Johnny brought home during high school, I really thought she was smart enough to see through him. Love really can make us stupid."

Dawn nodded "Stupid, blind, insane. Since her parents are too blinded by Johnny playing Captain America they don't seem to care how he treats her. We're all she has."

Y/N nodded "So you gonna cook?"

Dawn nodded "Of course. Im certainly not letting you near anybfood I plan to eat."

"Hey! My baking is top notch."

Dawn nodded, smirking "Yeah but your cooking, not so much."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They arrived at Stark Tower 20 minutes early so Y/N grabbed coffee for Pepper and herself.

When Pepper came in they sat in her office to chat about their weekend, Pepper grilled her about the date and tried to be supportive when she learned Michael's reaction to Y/N's new beau.

"He's a grown man and will adjust. He's never had to deal with a parent dating someone different but I'm sure he wants you to be happy."

Y/N smiled "I hope so, he really was out of line last nite."

"So when are you seeing him again?"

Y/N shrugged "He texted me early this morning to let me know Sam called for his help and he didn't know how long it would be."

She smirked "The fun part is that Johnny is apparently on that same mission with them. I'd love to be a fly on that wall."

Pepper laughed "Hopefully they don't hurt each other."

"I wouldn't hold much hope of that." she laughed softly before her smile fell. "I guess I should let you know. Johnny said he would get me fired if I kept seeing James. Something about telling his friends at S.W.O.R.D. that I'm a security risk. I don't know if he actually has any friends that would do that or if any of them are powerful enough to do anything but if you hear anything negative about me it's probably from him."

Pepper smiled "Don't worry, we have contracts with S.W.O.R.D. but they don't have any say in how I run things or who I hire."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After 9 hours in the air they arrived in the Belgian countryside to follow up on a tip Sharon gave them on the Power Broker.

They spent 2 days straight looking and seemingly just missing them everywhere they went.

All three men had frayed nerves caused by the frustration from missing their target but even more because of John's attitude and constant trash talking.

"This place is bullshit. I'm starting to wonder if the Power Broker actually exists. Or maybe Sharon is giving us crap intel because she's mad her fuck buddy found a new, older and uglier plaything?" John taunted.

Bucky's jaw clenched and the whirring from his prosthetic could be heard as his hand stretched and clenched.

He shook his head

"Nice try Johnny but Sharon was Steve's mistake, not mine. And if your sister is so nasty, why are you working so hard to get into her pants?"

Sam chuckled "You two really need to shut up about Y/N. When we get home you can fight or whatever to get it out of your system."

Bucky gave Sam a big smile "Sure thing pal."

John grumbled but helped finish searching the seemingly abandoned building.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn was finishing dinner and Y/N set the table when the doorbell rang.

Dawn looked to her sister "Must be Olivia, I'm stuck here can you-"

Y/N laughed "Already on my way, can't disturb the artist."

When she answered the door Olivia smiled at her and they hugged.

"You know you can just come in right?"

Olivia chuckled nervously "I know you said I could but John-"

Y/N made a face "Fuck Johnny"

Olivia flinched but tried to hide it.

Y/N laughed "Sorry, I know you don't like my language."

Olivia quickly replied "No, it's ok. John just doesn't..Sorry, I'm doing it again. I love him but he can be a little overbearing."

"A little?"

They both laughed.

Y/N headed for the kitchen "Well, come in and have a glass of wine. I think Sissy is almost done with dinner. We're having Mama Walker's beef stroganoff."

Olivia shook her head "John doesn't like me drinking. He says it's not ladylike."

Dawn smirked and handed her a glass "Don't worry, we won't tell. Have a seat."

Olivia tentatively took the glass "Alright, just one." and sat at the table while the sisters served dinner.

Once they all sat they started talking, catching up and eating. Olivia ended up having 2 more glasses of wine before the meal was done and they were all laughing at a story Dawn shared from her work.

Once the table was cleared they nibbled on some holiday cookies Y/N made and Olivia got quiet.

Y/N put her hand over Olivia's "Is everything alright? You clammed up on us there."

Olivia looked at her nervously "I have to tell you something but I'm a little scared."

"Hey, we're family here. You can tell us anything." Dawn encouraged.

Olivia cleared her throat. "Well, I don't think I'm supposed to know about this but." She paused and took a deep breath "Well, Michael came by the house last week. Which was strange because I don't think he really likes John. But they were in the den talking and I wasn't trying to listen but they were both pretty loud and" she paused and looked at Y/N who nodded. "I didn't hear the details but they were going to try to do something to get Sargent Barnes pardon revoked. Make it look like he caused some kind of trouble" her words rushed out.

"I don't know exactly but it's not right. He paid his dues for something that wasn't his fault in the first place and Y/N you deserve to be happy and loved after everything with Mike. I don't know why John hates you so much or wants to interfere but I felt like you should know, maybe you can warn him. I know they're on the same mission right now." She looked at them, then at her hands in her lap and whispered "Please don't tell him I said anything"

Y/N and Dawn looked at each other and sighed. Y/N took Olivia's hand "Don't worry, we have a lot of experience keeping secrets from Johnny, you're safe."

Olivia teared up "You two have always been here for me, even when John has been so awful and I thought I needed to say something to you."

Y/N smiled "Thank you for telling us. I haven't spoken to James since he left but when I do I'll tell him to watch out." Her expression became angry "I'll find a way to get Michael to confess at dinner on Sunday. I might have to kick his ass myself."

Olivia looked shocked "Oh please don't hurt him. I know he's doing it out of love, he's just misguided."

Y/N sighed "That may be but sometimes a slap upside the head is necessary to get his thinking right. He truly is his fathers son. Stubborn and can't admit he's wrong. Don't worry, I won't hurt him too much"

They cleaned up and Olivia called a cab to go home.

After she left Dawn and Y/N smoked a joint and discussed the situation, working on a plan to get Michael to spill his secrets.

@supraveng @cjand10 @440mxs-wife @kandis-mom @dtba-grey81 @calwitch

Chapter 8

[no6secretsanta]

From: @sci-fangirl

For: @skiesinlove

Happy holidays!

The sounds of supplies being scrambled into bags and students beginning to chit chat filled the room as the professor called out his last minute reminder.

“Remember, two full pages analyzing Aristotle’s ‘On Slavery’ due next class!”

Shion zipped his backpack closed and turned to Nezumi, a compulsive smile spreading across Shion’s face. Nezumi had packed up an hour ago. He’d popped ‘Macbeth’ open as soon as Aristotle entered the lecture.

“How’s the King of Scots?” Shion asked, rising to meet Nezumi.

“Murder crazy, as always.” Nezumi tucked the book away and the two walked out of the classroom. “Still not as bad as Titus Andromedus though.”

Shion wrinkled his nose a little and his smile turned to a smirk. “I know college is the time to be pretentious, but do you ever worry you’re going overboard?”

Nezumi scowled, taking a deep breath before letting it out in one ranting breath.

“At least I don’t force people to read Aristotle. Seriously, the man was a classist, racist, misogynist who never got anything right. He’s better forgotten if you ask me. Socrates, Plato, or Diogenes would be both more informative not to mention more fun to talk about.”

“Which one was Diogenes again?”

“He’s the one who heard a man defined as a featherless biped and responded by bringing a plucked chicken to the next discussion.”

“‘Behold a man.’” Shion remembered, adding a little drama to his voice.

“That’s the one.”

Shion hummed. “Wasn’t everyone in Athens a classist, racist, misogynist back then? According to this class, anyway.”

Nezumi rolled his eyes. “There have always been people who stood against the problematic status quo, this teacher just doesn’t seem interested in talking about them. And regardless, Aristotle was an idiot who happened to have been taught by a decent thinker and had no filter. He wasn’t even a fun menace!”

“He’s a philosophic nepo baby?” Shion suggested.

“He’s a philosophic nepo baby!” Nezumi grinned back at Shion, bringing a little pink to Shion’s cheeks.

“At least the term’s almost over.” Shion laughed. “After this class you can stay far away from ancient Greece for a while.”

He fished his bus pass out from his bag. Nezumi continued grumbling as he did the same. They found seats at the back of the bus, legs pressed together so they could keep talking.

“You’re closing tonight, right?” Nezumi asked.

Shion nodded.

“I’ll walk you there.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Of course I don’t. but if I have to write about Aristotle I’ll need the caffeine. Might as well use the employee discount.”

Shion leaned against him a little, smiling softly. Nezumi had a tendency to make excuses for spending time together. They lived, worked, and took the occasional class together because it was “more convenient”. “The restaurant had a discount for couples”, Shion would “make an interesting museum guide”, he’d “accidently bought a second ticket for a movie and didn’t want it to go to waste”. The fact that the restaurant was Shion’s favorite, or that the museum had a new exhibit Shion had been excited about was all pure coincidence.

He’d gotten better about it recently, but if Nezumi felt like he was being too clingy he’d slip back into making excuses. Walking Shion to work just because he wanted to when they’d already spent most of their day together was overbearing, another reason had to be logged. Shion didn’t really mind. Nezumi was an excellent liar, but his excuses for spending time with Shion had always been flimsy at best. They stopped by their apartment to drop their school things before heading to the coffee shop they worked at.

Shion waved at Inukashi as they entered. They started to wave back from their place behind the counter only to stop and glare when they spotted Nezumi. “What’re you doin’ here? Shion, you’re not stickin’ poor Safu with this bastard are you?”

“Goodness Inukashi, imagine if your manager heard you talking about a customer like that.” Nezumi smirked.

“Like you count!”

Shion slipped behind the counter, calling over his shoulder to Nezumi, “Just give me a minute to clock in and I can make you a drink, okay?”

“Thank you. I wouldn’t trust your dear coworker not to spit in it.”

“You–!” The door to the backroom swung shut, muffling Inukashi’s response.

~

Most other stores had had their Christmas decorations up as soon as Halloween was over, but the owner of this shop insisted on waiting until December first. Whoever closed the first night of the month had to stay late to decorate. This year Shion and Safu were scheduled for decoration duty.

Shion liked closing with Safu. She was the most efficient when closing out the registers and never found it weird that Shion actually enjoyed mopping. Deciding who would decorate what also came easily. Shion pulled out a step stool so he could tape the shiny, silver strands of garlands around the top of the room. Safu crouched to tape snowman cut outs and paper snowflakes to the front of the counter. There would be a tree by the window too, but that would be the morning crew’s problem when the owner brought that in tomorrow.

Shion was about halfway done with the garlands when Safu stood, stretching her legs and taking a last glance at her work. “I’ll go bring in the patio stuff.”

“Want help?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got it.”

Their routine for the night was pretty locked in at this point. Clean the floor and counters, bring in the patio furniture, lock the doors, put away dishes, lights out, go home. With Safu as his closing partner, Shion could tell you the exact minute to minute schedule. Tonight their routine was thrown off, but they were doing their best to help each other out and finish quickly. As Safu brought in the last of the chairs, Shion knocked his roll of tape to the floor. Safu spotted it, scooping it up and handing it off as a man came into the shop.

“Sorry, we’re closed.” Shion said, stepping off his stool, toward the man..

The man pulled a knife out of his pocket and pointed it at them. “Empty out the registers and leave the money on the counter. No one has to get hurt.”

Shion glanced towards Safu who had nervously shuffled back a few steps. “There’s nothing in the registers right now.”

“Where’s the money then? Get it and hand it over.” The man snapped.

Safu took another step towards the back.

“The fuck are you doing? Stay there!”

“Sir, all of the money is in the back.” Shion tried to keep his voice calm.

Safu nodded. “Please, there’s no need to escalate things, we’ll cooperate.”

The man looked skeptical, eyes shifting between them. “All three of us are going then. Stay where I can see you.”

He herded them through the door, knife out and ready to strike. When Safu started for the safe he snarled, “You stay put. Boyo’s gonna get it out.” She swallowed, stilling.

Shion opened the safe revealing the tills readied for the morning and the small deposit bags Shion hesitantly reached into the safe, grabbing the deposit bags and looking back, afraid of setting this man off. The robber suddenly lunged at Safu, knife first. Safu let out a small screech as she shrunk mostly out of the way. Shion dropped the money and jumped on the man.

A sharp, burning pain bounced along his rib before jumping to his forearm. Shion pushed hard, hoping to get more space to swing a punch. The man took advantage of the space first, landing a kick to the newly burning place on Shion’s side. The robber scrambled away and bolted for the door, money forgotten.

“Shion!” Safu knelt next to him. “You’re– I’m calling an ambulance.”

Shion pressed a hand to his side. A cut ran parallel to his ribs, shallow but about six or so inches long. Another, deeper cut sliced about an inch of his forearm. More a stab than a cut really he thought to himself as he attempted to put pressure on both wounds.

“I’m okay.” He scanned Safu for injury. Her sweater had a cut near the shoulder, blood staining the sleeve. “You’re bleeding too.”

She frowned. “He just nicked me.”

“I’ll go to the hospital if you do.”

Safu gave a little huff. “I’ll call the owner first.”

~ Safu and Shion ended up in the hospital thanks to the shop’s owner. He arrived quickly to the coffee shop, insisting that they both get checked out while he submitted a police report. Safu was fine, the nick on her arm probably could have been taken care of with the first aid kit they’d had in the shop. Shion, on the other hand, needed stitches.

Nezumi was relegated to the waiting room, fingers tapping on the arm of the plastic chairs. He leapt to his feet when he spotted Shion, lurching forward to meet him.

“I’m okay.” Shion said quickly. His fingers trembled as he gripped Nezumi’s sleeve. “Can we please just go home?”

Nezumi pulled Shion’s hand off and laced their fingers instead. “Okay.”

They didn’t talk on the way home, but Nezumi refused to let go just in case Shion was weak from blood loss, he explained. Shion leaned against him and focussed on not falling asleep. Nezumi finally released Shion when they were in their apartment with the door locked. Restless, Nezumi swept into the kitchen. “Hot cocoa?”

Shion gingerly perched on the couch. “Sounds good.”

“Laying down would be more comfortable.”

Shion slowly lowered himself onto the cushions. It was quiet again, save for the sounds of mugs clinking and the fridge door opening and closing. Shion’s eyes slid closed, the painkillers he’d been given at the hospital making his eyelids heavy. Shion tried to focus on the sounds from the kitchen, so he could make room for Nezumi when he came back. The noises faded to quiet, though Shion couldn’t get his eyes to open. A hand ran through his hair, gentle and slow, pulling him closer to sleep.

“Wake up, Your Majesty.” Nezumi crooned.

Shion whined softly, eyes still sealed shut.

“Just for a minute, then you can sleep again.” Nezumi reassured.

Shion managed to peel his eyes open.

Nezumi was leaning over him. “There you are. Come on, I’ll help you to bed.”

Shion nodded and shoved himself upright. A small flare of pain radiated from his arm and woke him up a bit more. “Weren’t you makin’ cocoa?” Shion mumbled.

Nezumi wrapped his arm around the sleepy boy’s waist, gently urging Shion to lean on him. “We can have cocoa tomorrow, it’s bedtime.”

Shion nodded as they stumbled to his bedroom. Nezumi helped Shion change into pajamas before tucking him in.

Shion grabbed Nezumi’s wrist. “You work tomorrow?”

“I’m supposed to.”

Shion tightened his hold, a stab of worry waking him further. “Call out?”

Nezumi gave a dramatic sigh and sank onto the bed next to him. “As it pleases, Your Highness.”

Shion smiled a little and shifted closer. “Stay with me?”

Nezumi pressed a kiss to Shion’s hair. Nezumi slipped into bed behind him, arms wrapping carefully around Shion.

“Go to sleep, Shion. It’s alright.”

Shion pressed his thumb against Nezmi’s wrist feeling his pulse as he finally, truly dropped into sleep.

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck Week 2024

Day 4 - Favorite UMA: UMA Ghost

This is a really tough one since the majority of UMAs don't get much character development. Thus far, Spring and Clothy are the best explored, and the Master Rules are most likely going to rocket to the top pretty soon, but at the moment, I have to go with which UMA made the biggest impression on me, and that has to be Ghost

Not only does Ghost have, in my opinion, the absolute sickest design, he also facilitated one of the coolest fights. Andy vs. Nico was wildly upsetting in the best way; we got so much insight into Nico when up to that point it kind of seemed like he was just supposed to be a support character. We didn't know yet how impressive it was that he beat Language solo, and it kind of gave the impression that both of them were pretty weak, but the Ghost fight completely negated that impression

Unforgettable seems like it's not the most impressive ability, but the way that Nico was able to utilize it to master martial arts and recreate combat data of his fallen comrades suddenly made it odd that he was only the Eighth Seat! As we learn in his bio, Juiz kept his seat low on purpose so he wouldn't be obligated to leave the lab too often, letting him cling to Ichico's memory as much as possible

Ghost and Nico also are just an amazing combo. Memories and lost souls go together fantastically, and Nico's sunken, haunted eyes and aging emaciated body give him a simply ghoulish aesthetic that pairs perfectly with the gaping maw of Ghost's burlap cloak and skeletal limbs clinging to him

Loss, grief, memory...so long as we remember, people don't die, and the addition of Ghost perverts that very idea. The memory of those who have been lost is used to force them back into our world, and to force them to behave in ways they certainly wouldn't accept. Maybe Void would want to slug Andy, but there's no way he and Gina would ever allow themselves to be used to betray the Union

This same perversion is applied to Ichico as well. Ghost manipulates Nico with the promise of the memory of his wife. In Nico's heart, Ichico is dying, as all of his memories of her were before he became Unforgettable. If the accumulating memories overtake and crush what came prior, then Ichico will truly be gone. To preserve her memory, Nico strikes a deal with Ghost and kills all of his friends, endangers his daughter, and sells out the very world itself. Ichico would never be happy with that decision, but for Nico, it's all he has. Despite being Unforgettable, Nico cannot retain the one memory he wants to keep, and thus is haunted by a ghost that grows ever fainter

And of course, we can't discount Ghost's personality as well. Ghost claims to have always been lonely, likely because many people don't believe in ghosts even after his addition; many people manifest as generic spirit orbs rather than retaining their shape. When Andy acknowledged his soul, Ghost found him to be someone he could relate to and offered to be his friend. What exactly this means to him isn't delved too far into, but a UMA desiring friendship is very compelling. I doubt we'll get to interact with him again in L101, but I'd certainly appreciate it if he came back during the Soul fight

Honestly, if there's one fight I want to see reach the anime, it's the Ghost fight. How they would convey the difference between the hollow and soul-powered Astral Dolls, how they represent the silver glow of the soul, Nico's ever-mounting anguish as his personality slowly erodes and gives way to Ghost's possession...there's so much about this fight that I can envision would be so sick to watch, and if this season was any indication, there's a very good chance that they wouldn't disappoint

[wyrmst]

Out in the Cold (Part Ten)

M Orc x M Troll (Hulder) Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG ||

Wordcount: 8641

Content Warnings: Abusive Language, Casual Fantasy Racism, Oral Sex (Reader Performs), Excessive Cum, Pyrophobia

This is one of those chapters that turned into an emotional roller coaster. :)

You’ve finally arrived.

It took the better part of two days, even running as hard as you can through the snow, and still you’ve only gotten here just as the sun’s beginning to dip.

“I’m-” You announce, gasping for breath from your most recent stretch of sprinting. “I’m here.”

At long last, you stop in your tracks in the snow, directly in front of your fellow thieves’ campfire. Their small, discreet camp is nestled at the edge of the woods. Still far enough away from the nearest fringe village to do illegitimate business with impunity, but close enough that you can just make out the outline of the snowy rooftops on the horizon.

Your guildmaster, Fritz, is standing still with his black cloak stark against the powdered landscape. Three other underlings that have accompanied him sit around the fire behind him. And of course, that wretched bird is perched on his shoulder- bobbing its head in excitement, already gloating.

You don’t even recognize any of the other thieves’ faces- they’re all new people hired on since you’ve been gone on this mission. You can’t say you’re surprised. Thieves at the lowest level are more than replaceable. The only reason that you were able to keep your place as long as you have despite your various blunders and bad luck has been your willingness to make yourself valuable in other ways- that, and Fritz’ wicked amusement with your struggles.

It makes you feel so small, the shadow of terror that washes over you just on seeing this man again. It’s been a full year, and even with everything you’ve been through and accomplished, you’re immediately right back to feeling like a scared, wounded animal in his presence. You can’t help but fall right back into that mindset on seeing him.

“Where’s the fibula?” He says, voice lacking any warmth.

The other thieves are silent. Even if they were happy to see you- which given circumstances, you highly doubt- knowing the way that your leader has always run things, they wouldn’t be willing to risk extending a greeting without direct permission to speak.

Such a cold welcome seems so out of place now for you now, when you’ve gotten so used to being treated with kindness. It’s been so long since you went anywhere that you didn’t feel like you were wanted past fulfilling a task.

Somehow, you keep your legs from quaking underneath you at the sound of his voice. It’s intimidating in tone, but to your ears it’s dried blood and corroded metal.

“R-Right here.” You huff, shoving your hand into your pack, searching. “I’ve got it right here-”

“Good. It’s about time you came to your bloody senses.”

“Sorry.” You say on reflex, but your words are ultimately empty. You don’t have it in you to perform the typical cowering and groveling and promises to never mess up again that you would do when coming back from a job that didn’t go well. You were always so desperate to get back into Fritz’ good graces, despite the fear this man still instills in you. After all, who else would take you in?

But now that your eyes have been opened, you don’t even know where you’d start. How could you beg to continue being treated like dirt, when you’ve experienced a place where you were valued?

“You’ve really fucked things up this time, you know. You took so long we had to offer the client a discount to keep them happy.” He continues, trying to twist the knife. He’s clearly confused by the starkly absent appeals for forgiveness from you, though his expression stays neutral. ”But don’t worry. There will be opportunities for you to make up the difference, when your punishment is over.”

It takes all your fortitude not to visibly shiver at the statement.

You remember clearly what his punishments are like, after all. You’ve had several years to get fully familiar with them.

But you’ll survive. Whatever punishment is coming, however bad- you can deal with it, as long as no more harm comes to your tribe. You’re willing to make that sacrifice.

Though… if things go how you’re hoping they will, there won’t be a chance for you to get punished, at least not by him. When whatever hell rains down on you when the orcs catch up with you- any moment now- you can only hope that it will take Fritz and his goons out in the process.

“It was a complicated job, so it took longer than expected- But I got it in the end.” You say, the small, awkward laugh you let out doing not much to dissuade the tension. “Surely, that counts for something?”

“My, that does sound like an excuse when what I asked for is results.” Your guildmaster sniffs dryly. “But I’m sure the smell will wash out eventually.”

You bite down on the inside of your lip to keep from insulting him in turn.

You continue to make a good show of searching through your pack. You wonder how long you can stretch out the time like this, without pushing your luck too far.

“Do you have the damned thing or not?” Your guildmaster hisses through gritted teeth.

Luckily for you, he’s more ready to believe that you’re just having one of your typical blunders, rather than doing anything suspicious.

“I do, I do-” You reassure him, your hand bumping over the box again and again as you make a show of feeling around the inside of your bag for it. “It’s in here somewhere-”

“Well, hurry it up.” Fritz grumbles venomously.

“Sorry- My pack’s just a bit of a mess-”

A few moments later, you finally pull the worn pine box out, not able to stall any longer.

You crack open the seam and pull out the fibula, its coppery metal pinched gingerly between two fingers. You lift it up, 

You start to extend it out towards him.

You don’t want to. It sickens you to even think about his grimy, rotten hands touching it.

But it’s too late to turn back now. 

Torg wouldn’t take you back after what you’ve done…

You’ve made your choice.

You just need to… hand it over…

TWO DAYS AGO

“H-Here. Another one…”

Urguk has led you, Lurog and Torg to the bones of a cold, dead campfire that he’s found. 

It’s your turn in the hunting rotation, so the four of you have decided to go together. It’s only a single day worth of hunting at a time these days, given that it’s the dead of winter.

And, as if you didn’t have enough to worry about, here’s more evidence of your ongoing predicament.

“What’s a campfire doing this far out?” You feign surprise and ask aloud to no one in particular, as if you don’t have a crystal clear idea of what a campfire is doing out here.

“Dunno. Not one of ours, either.” Lurog pokes at the old burnt out ash with the butt of her spear, cursorily turning over a log. “None of the other hunters build them like that.”

“N-Neither do any of the loggers.”

“Third one this week, from the sound of what the returning hunters were saying the other day.”

Torg grunts in acknowledgement. He wears a grim expression- grim even for him- as he silently observes the details your friends are pointing out to him, though you’re sure he’s noticed many of them already.

“T-The tracks lead over h-here…” Urguk says, pointing through the dense trees in the distance. “I f-followed them for a while. B-But the trail- uh- ends, after the r-river…”

Urguk walks over to the thick trunk of a nearby tree.

“T-Then there’s this…”

He motions to the front of the tree, where a single dagger is lodged in a deep gouge in the wood.

You had seen it already, of course, but you were hoping they wouldn’t notice. Your tail twitches anxiously, dusting some of the accumulated powder snow.

“Weird.” Lurog says and rolls her eyes. “And stupid. Who just leaves a perfectly good weapon behind?”

Someone wants to send a threatening message, you respond, silent outside of the confines of your own head. You twist the edge of your cloak from the nerves, but try to keep an inconspicuous air about you.

Who made this camp, indeed. 

It’s not as if Fritz would be traipsing out in the cold doing reconnaissance himself. He thinks he’s above it. Hirelings, maybe, then?

That he’s ordered to come finish the job? 

No. You shake the thought away. You’re not even sure it was any of Fritz’ thieves.

Nothing’s going to happen.

Fritz surely wouldn’t try anything, anyway. What can he even do to you, within the sanctuary of an orc tribe?

And after tomorrow, it won’t be a problem anymore. They’ll surely give up.

It’s nothing but the last empty threats from a man who is finally losing his control over you.

“Hhrm…” Torg grumbles. “Best to head back for the day, then.” 

“You sure, Boss? There’s still plenty of daylight left.”

“We’ve caught more than enough for quota, and some to dry. It will be fine.” Torg says, motioning with a gloved hand to the variety of several grouses and the few snowshoe hares that are laid out on the wooden game sled behind him.

“Right. Your call.” Lurog says, obedient to your leader. She clearly remains unconvinced by his out-of-character decision, but leaves whatever concern she had unspoken.

Torg isn’t saying it, but you can tell just from the subtleties of his behavior that he’s steeped in concern- and suspicion. Your friends surely must have noticed it, as well, though neither of them comment on it.

The silent understanding is that it would be best to not encounter whomever left this skeleton of a camp.

You can’t say you disagree.

The trek back to the settlement is a tense, quiet one. Urguk and Lurog aren’t even whispering to themselves, let alone to you- too preoccupied with being as vigilant as possible.

When you return, Urguk and Lurog handle taking the fruits of your shared hunt to the kitchen to be dressed and processed into tomorrow night’s communal meal.

Torg, on the other hand, tells you that he has something he needs to speak with Shaman about. And while this is not an uncommon occurrence, it is transparently obvious to you that it must be concerning what you found in the woods.

So you down your evening meal quickly- you have somewhere to be afterwards, anyway. You pick up a serving of this evening’s meal of roast grouse and potatoes to bring for Granny, since she’s been too ill to come to the hall for communal meal the last few nights.

“There you are! Let’s get these fitted up nice for you.” Granny’s eyes crinkle with glee as she holds out the finery in her hands.

It’s a beautiful dark blue blouse made out of elven silk from the caravan from earlier this year. It has a high collar, fluttering sleeves with slits up to the shoulder, a silvery trim, and that cutout window at the nape of your neck that Granny insisted on. Even the simple black wool trousers to go with are high quality and flattering in cut, even before the alterations.

At first, you expected something more orcish in nature, but she essentially made you something like a more formal version of the clothes she’s been making for you over the last year, and that seems to suit you more, anyway.

Granny has you try on the clothes and then step up onto a stool for her to better reach you, and then she gets to work.

Seeing yourself in the mirror as she puts in the pins has you in a state of heady glee. Clothes have really only been about utility for you for so long; wearing clothes that make you feel good in them is very much a luxury. You can’t keep the smile from your face the entire time Gorsha works.

Despite her age, Granny’s hands are still as nimble as ever, and she has the pins placed with almost frightening efficiency.

Even as the fitting comes to an end, you’re still grinning from ear to ear.

“So, you like them?” The gummy grin on her face tells you she’s already aware you do, and simply asking as a formality.

“Of course!” You beam. “They’re gorgeous. I barely wanted to change out of them.”

“Told you you’d like the cutout.” She cackles, teasing you. “It being winter doesn’t mean you can’t show a little skin. Not when you’re hot stuff!”

You laugh, and after a bit more chatter and a jar of lingonberry jam has appeared in your hands, you’re getting ready to leave. Though as you do, Granny has such an intense coughing fit that she needs to sit down to weather it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You double check one more time, despite her trying to permit you to leave. “I can bring you something else if you need it. Or go get Shaman…?”

She waves your suggestions off. She finally catches her breath a minute or so later, though she continues to wheeze.

“I’m not quite dead yet,” Gorsha laughs, but it punctuates with a phlegmy cough. “Don’t you worry- It’s going to take a lot more than a little cough to kill me.”

“But if you’re sick shouldn’t you rest? I don’t want your health to get worse on my account.”

“As if I’ll let anyone else touch these special clothes for my special kitty cat’s special day!” The old orc scoffs, neatly folding the garments, careful of the pins. “No. These old hands will have this sewing done within the hour and then I’ll have all evening to rest.”

You take her word for it, and head for home, thoughts of your beautiful new formalwear keeping the dread at bay for now.

It’s amazing what a good meal and a hot bath will do for your mood, even with the weight of the morning’s discoveries weighing down on you. Now if you could just find some mental stimulation, to keep your buzzing mind distracted from the impending threat.

Your Joining is tomorrow.

You’re almost home free. You just have to make it through the next eighteen or so hours without losing your mind or anything going wrong.

After you reawaken the hearth for the night, you end up hunkering down in Torg’s massive, vacant armchair- though you lament it would be much better with an occupant to sit on- in your comfortable lounge clothes, and dig more into the tome on Orcish customs that Granny gave to you. 

Thanks to your still so far lackluster reading speed when it comes to Orcish script, you’ve barely gotten through a quarter of the book so far, despite being quite a fast reader otherwise. There’s just so many symbols to memorize that you haven’t yet, and Orcish is surprisingly esoteric in its descriptions in the first place…

You only make the meager process of a few sections before Torg returns home for the evening. Even before you can see him, you can hear the weight of his steps causing the old, worn wood on the front step to creak.

Then the door creaks open and the full wall of a man walks through the threshold- one of the only ones in the settlement he doesn’t have to duck a little to walk through, you’ve noticed.

“Welcome back,” You say, still engrossed in reading for a few moments before you look up.

The grim expression on his face becomes one of warm fondness, worries seemingly being set aside.

Before you can get out of the chair to go greet him, he’s already kicked off his snow-crusted boots and closed the space between you.

“Warm in here.” He leans down and takes your cheeks in his hands, gloves and all, and gives you a firm, affectionate set of kisses on the face and head. The icy cold leather exterior of his gloves feels nice against your fire-warmed cheeks.

“Hmm.” You hum in approval, affectionately bumping the top of your head upwards into his lips. “I lit the fireplace. Thought you’d want to bathe after hunting earlier.”

“And no smoke, even.” Your lover pulls back with a gruff laugh, finally getting around to the task of removing his gloves and the rest of his outerwear. “Someone must’ve remembered to open the flue.”

“Please. That was one time!” You scoff and flick your ears indignantly. 

It has been three times to date, but who’s counting?

“And you’re at home studying.” He hangs his cloak on the rack by the door. “Nervous for tomorrow, kitten?”

“No.” You lie, flattening your ears back for show.

“You know I can tell when you lie.” Torg finds that particularly amusing, given the deep bellow of a laugh. “But there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

With a teasing ruffle of your hair on the way by, Torg excuses himself to bathe.

You wish you could agree with him on that point. It seems the only things you can really focus on at the moment are things to be nervous about- about all the things that could potentially go wrong between now and tomorrow’s ceremony.

After another few paragraphs read, he reappears, freshly washed and wearing one of the set of simple beige linen trousers that he wears to sleep.

As he passes by, you can make out the lingering scent of his soap in the air. It’s a pleasant mix of pine and salt and the smallest hint of cream that you’ve come to associate with comfort.

Torg plucks up the bulky, brown paper package by the string it’s tied with, easily lifting it from where you left it on the dining table.

“I should wait to give this to you- but I won’t.” Torg says, a hint of an amused smile on his lips.  He then unceremoniously sets the bundle in your lap.

Then you let out a noise between a yelp and a laugh as Torg’s strong arms casually lift your entire body from your seat. He then turns and thumps his full weight down in the seat of his armchair. Then gently brings you down to nestle in his lap, sitting in more or less the same legs-tucked position as you were before.

“You could’ve asked me to move, you know.” You chortle.

“Could’ve. But this was faster.” He kicks up his feet onto the nearby footstool and presses a kiss to your cheek. His beard is still a little wet- cool and slick as the damp hair glides across your skin.

Business as usual, you think- but you don’t mind. This is your favorite seat in the house.

Then, you remember the bundle in your lap. It’s not as heavy as it looks, you note, despite its bulky size. It feels soft and malleable through the paper.

“So, what is it?” You say curiously, putting the book in your hands to rest on the side table.

“Open it and see,” Torg smiles at the redundant question. “A gift for your Joining. But I want you to have it early.”

You pull the end of the frayed twine holding the package in place, and the paper crinkles open.

Nestled in the center of the wrapping is a folded pile of silky, snow white fur with a familiar pattern of light blue-grey rosettes- the winter coat of an adult hexopard.

In fact, this very specific coat of fur itself is very familiar, you think. You may just have seen it somewhere before…

“The one from my first hunting trip?” You question out loud, though you’re sure of it already. 

You hold the fluffy garment aloft, spreading it out to take in its beauty, but your wingspan doesn’t stretch far enough to reach the full width of it.

“Yes. I had it made after we got back from that trip. It took months to cure and then some time to tailor, but Granny finished it just in time. And now it’s yours.”

It’s taking everything in you to not let tears roll down your cheeks, though the ones accumulating at your waterline are trying their hardest to escape containment.

“...What do you think?”

Overwhelmed, you scrunch the fabric to your face with both hands, burying your cheeks in the soft fur to hide your surely pitiful expression. It smells a bit like leather, as any pelt would, but with a faint trace of the familiar clean linen scent of the tailor’s shop.

“I’ll take that as a good sign.” Torg rumbles deeply.

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever given me.” You finally say when you lift your head again for air, completely honest. Not just that- it’s the nicest thing you’ve ever owned, period. “I love it. But... Why?” 

You ponder the gift, running your fingers through the fur. It’s so smooth, it feels like butter between your fingertips. Every stitch looks like it had care put into it- Granny’s work is always immaculate, but it must’ve taken even more effort than usual to work such thick, difficult material. Even the paws were left intact, slender blue hued claws jutting out from each.

“What do you mean, why?” Torg furrows his brow, exasperated. “I already told you it was for your Joining.”

 “Yes, but- why give me something so… nice?” It’s still a foreign concept to you, that anyone would care enough to do so.

“Why would I give my lover a nice gift?” He scoffs, clearly still amused but also a bit puzzled.

“When you put it like that, I suppose it is a silly question.” You reply sheepishly.

“Because you are worth more to me than any cloak. More than a thousand cloaks-” He says your name, serious as can be. “To me, you are priceless. You deserve nice things.”

You’re quiet for a few moments, just enjoying the sensation of the warm, silky texture under your touch, and letting your full weight rest back against Torg's solid and capable frame, your reading forgotten. 

Nice things, so far in your life, have been either out of reach, or specifically made off limits to you. You had it ingrained that they simply weren’t meant for you, and that that was that.

That is, until you came here.

Regardless of their actual gold value, here you have had access to things- but tangible and not- that you never could’ve dreamed of having before.

You’re finally starting to think that after all this time here, that maybe Torg is right. Maybe you are worthy of having things you value- and of being valued. 

“You know… in a way, this cloak is a symbol.” Torg finally speaks again when you’ve been silent for a while.

“You wanted a memento of your broken arm?” You quip. You can feel the conversation steering into emotional territory, so you preemptively bring out the humor to protect yourself with.

Torg chuckles reproachfully.

“No. A symbol of how I feel for you.” He admits, reminiscing fondly as his fingers trace the curve of your spine through your linen shirt. “It was on that trip when I first felt something for you.”

“Well, before that I’m sure I did nothing but drive you closer to inevitable madness.”

“I had… grown to tolerate you. And if I am honest, I have always found you attractive, though that point was frustrating for me at first. But that trip- is when it moved beyond that. It’s when I knew you were really something special.”

“And now you’re telling me I’m special?” You make a show of falling back against him dramatically, barely able to disguise the frogginess in your voice when you speak. “You’re really laying the flattery on thick tonight.”

“It’s not flattery, when I give you gifts or tell you sweet words.” He takes a moment to tuck a piece of hair gingerly behind your ear. “It’s to show you how important you are to me. I want you to know that…”

The hesitance in Torg’s voice betrays that he’s second guessing his choice to go down this path of conversation, and yet, already being on it, he seems to have fully dedicated himself to following through on the momentum he’s built.

The last time you saw him anywhere near this nervous was at the midsummer festival when he first admitted his interest in you- and the only other time besides that in memory that you’ve seen him close to this wracked with nerves was when he was being, quite literally, savaged by a wild animal.

“...I love you.”

You're stunned, but turn your upper body towards him on instinct, meeting his sincere, unapologetic gaze.

“...What?” You barely speak the question- more of an escaped breath than anything else. You heard him loud and clear, but your brain is simply not parsing the information.

Even with how close you’ve grown, Torg isn’t one to find it easy to be vulnerable, so you know his choice to tell you this is not one made lightly.

And it’s not as if you weren’t aware things might end up like this- you’ve lived in his house as his partner for months at this point. So why do you feel like you’re simultaneously falling and floating?

Torg swallows dryly, grounding himself, and then repeats in a firm, even voice;

“I love you.”

While you’re elated, a small remnant of terror from the time you spent treating your relationship as a temporary deception remains. 

But those thoughts quickly vanish.

You drop the cloak and throw your arms around his shoulders, leaning into him and burrowing your face into the blue skin of his neck to stop yourself from weeping. The paper in your lap crinkles from the sudden movement as you squash yourself against him.

His strong arms encircle around your back, holding you steady.

None of the things from before seem to matter, now.

Strong, honest feelings are bubbling up and trying to finally escape- feelings that you’ve been denying yourself- and denying Torg, for months.

“...Oh, Torg…” You choke out when you finally turn your face to the side to breathe, unable to keep yourself from giving him an honest response for any longer. “I love you, too.”

Torg grunts in approval and squeezes you tighter as the words register, his arm muscles clearly fighting the urge to crush you in pure exuberance. His fondness is clear in the way his fingertips dig into your lower back, crumpling your shirt, but cradling you like something precious.

Then you find his lips with yours and feverishly kiss him with wild abandon, not caring in the slightest when the points of his tusks prod into your cheeks.

When you finally release your hold on the yoke of his shoulders and sink back down into his lap, you’re chasing down your breath, face still overheated, still just barely managing to keep from crying.

“Well. Now that you have it, you can wear it to your Joining tomorrow.” Torg grins at you, his severe features softened by being absolutely, incurably, smitten with you. “If you want.”

“...And what if I want to wear it now?” You tease back, reclaiming some of your composure. “It is a token of your love, after all.”

“By all means, try it on.” He laughs and leans his jaw on his fist, eyes twinkling in delight. “The tailors already had your measurements, so it should fit fine.”

“I might just.” You slide-hop down from Torg’s lap, cloak in hand, and scamper into the bedroom, a devious idea forming in your mind.

——

When you’re out of sight behind the bedroom threshold, you shed all of your clothes, right down to the nude. You’re so hasty to get out of your pants that you nearly trip and fall, but mercifully manage to save yourself. Then, you pull the cloak around you as you’d normally wear it. The lining of the garment is smooth against your skin as it glides over your shoulders and back.

The sheer size of the pelt swallows you up whole, but isn��t long enough to drag on the ground. You adjust how it lays on your form, held in place by the silver chain attaching either side. You make sure it covers you completely in the front, keeping it secure from the inside with a pinch of your fingers where the sides of the cloak meet.

And then you move carefully, step by step, back out into the living area.

“How does it look?” You ask innocently.

Torg raises a single eyebrow, clearly detecting that something is strange from your behavior, but as of yet unsure of what.

“Looks good.” He praises you, regardless.

You hum in approval. Your tail skims the floor, swishing back and forth impishly.

Then, you spin around slowly until you’re facing away, and slightly let the top of the cloak sink slightly, just enough to expose the nape of your neck and the dip of skin between it and your shoulder.

“How about now?”

“Even better.” His voice comes out a deep rumble. You already had his attention, but now he’s rapt, based on how his eyes are hanging on every little movement.

You pull the cloak back up, and turn back to face him, and give him a cheeky smile.

“Are you sure?” You say, dripping with faux uncertainty. “You don’t seem like you like it much…”

You use your grip on the front of the cloak to part the front just enough to show him one bare leg, up to the supple dip between your thigh and abdomen, but no more.

“Oh, I like it.” The fingers on one of Torg’s hands twitch against the edge of the armrest. “Maybe I just need to see it closer.”

You let the cloak hang closed and move closer. Torg shifts in his seat as you approach, pulling one foot from the stool, and then the other. The stool legs scrape just a bit across the floor as you push it aside.

“Well, you already know that I like it.” You slip between his knees, bringing a hand to rest on his groin. You’re unsurprised to find that he’s already growing stiff under the fabric. “Should I show you how much?”

You lower yourself down, spreading the cloak out with an elegant flourish as you go. The spotted material fans out across the floor around you as you come to settle onto your knees.

Torg lets out a guttural noise, sound rumbling from deep in his chest. He brings out his free hand to hold your face. His thumb rubs across your jawline.

“Hmgh- You don’t have to do this just because I gave you a nice gift, you know.” He grumbles affectionately, pressing his thumb onto your bottom lip.

“I know.” You smile, nipping at his thumb tip as you loosen him from his pants, hands absolutely dwarfed in comparison to his size. “I want to.”

You hold his exposed blue cock firmly by the base, using your other hand to teasingly stroke up its length.

Torg watches you intensely, predatorily, as you draw out the light touches to his shaft and glans on purpose. 

When you finally hear a deep, frustrated growl escape his chest and a sufficient amount of precum has pooled on the slit of his cockhead, you finally oblige and lean in.

You start with simply rubbing the tip of his purple-tinted glans against your tongue, letting the taste linger.

He continues to watch you- waiting, and twitching.

This certainly isn’t the first time you’ve given him head over the last few months, so you’ve gotten accustomed to just how much of him you can realistically fit into your mouth. You try to start off slow and even.

But in the end, you’re still greedy. Tears prick your eyes, risking gagging when you take as much as physically possible in, the tip of Torg’s cockhead jabbing into the back of your throat.

You’re sure to look up at him while you do this, knowing that he particularly enjoys it.

“That’s good.” Torg keeps his praise simple- taciturn as always, even during this sort of act. But the weight of his hand coming to rest on the nape of your neck, pressing your hair to your clammy skin, speaks volumes on its own.

You continue, mouth working the top half of him, and hands working the bottom.

The warm friction of his skin under your grasp is almost addictive. Your fingertips run over every throbbing inch of him you can reach as you squeeze. By now you think you can map out every bump on his phallus by memory, if you needed to.

You try to pace yourself, but you’ve never been the most patient. Your own arousal throbs between your legs, goading your pace forward. It doesn’t take long before your squeezes are full, strangling pumps, and your gentle mouthing is sloppy, cheek-hollowed sucks.

Torg is trying to restrain himself as well, and though he is better at you in the self control department, at the end of the day he’s just a mortal man. 

You chase after whatever motion gets you the most response, the most desperate jerking of his hips or the loudest, deepest growl. You’re far past the point of teasing now, wanting nothing more than to give him that empty-headed release.

Soon, you have him moments away from coming unravelled.

“Now swallow it all,” His grip on your hair tightens with the command. “Don’t make a mess of your cloak- Grrggh- You need it clean for tomorrow.”

You moan in confirmation, though the sound is mostly drowned out by the sound of your mouth working wet flesh.

He tenses up under your hands and against your tongue, ready to blow.

Torg lets out a deep, croaky noise between a growl and a grunt. The expected torrent rushes into your mouth and down your throat.

You try your best, gulping down as much as you can, as fast as you can to make room. You handle the first few surges well enough.

But you ultimately fail to keep up with the sheer volume someone with giant heritage produces.

“Nngh-” You wince.

You hastily press your head back against Torg’s palm with a thick, choked gurgle. He slackens his grip to let you draw back.

The top half of Torg’s glazed, knobby dick pops out of your mouth- still throbbing and spitting.

Miraculously, you manage to somehow avoid getting any of his load on the front of your new garment, though the front of your body does not fair as well. Globs from the overflow drip down across your chest.

“Fuck.” Torg growls, his thick fingers petting your hair, brow furrowed and chest heaving.

“Haah…” You let out a pleased sigh at the tingles that run across your scalp. You’re still a bit dazed, but cognizant enough to lock eyes with your lover. You know you must look like an absolute mess between the damp coating and the mussed hair, but you can’t bring yourself to care about primping.

His returned gaze is still smoldering into you.

Your lips quirk up in accomplishment, soft fingers idly continuing to stroke his cock at the base. 

You’ve barely had time to regain your breath before Torg has scooped you up as he stands.

“Ah!” You yelp sharply, almost a squeal between surprise and pure elation, and then devolve into a string of affectionate laughs.

He always seems to enjoy drawing that noise out of you.

In no time you’ve been transported into the bedroom, hauled like admittedly light cargo.

Torg dumps you onto the pile of furs on the bed- all piled on your side as usual- now with what is effectively an additional one underneath you, in the form of your new cloak.

You’re giddy in anticipation. You lay bare, half-erect and sprawled out on your back over the cloak where you landed, trying to display yourself like an enticing meal. Unconcealed lust has taken over your features as you look up at him. 

The orc looms over you, one knee on the bed as he pauses to look you over. Then he’s bearing down on you, supporting himself with one palm at your side, the other incling your body to his mouth from below. He peppers heated kisses and love nips down your chest and nuzzles his face into your belly before finally reaching his target. 

“You’re in for it now,” Torg growls, warm breath ghosting the crevice of your inner thigh. “You’ll be lucky if you can stand for the ceremony when I’m done with you.”

“Please,” You’re nearly vibrating with need. “That sounds marvelous.”

You’ve barely begun to feel the sweet warmth of Torg’s tongue gliding over the edge of your cockhead when there’s a sudden loud disturbance outside the house.

——

“Wait- Is that… yelling, outside?” Your ear twitches.

Torg pauses to listen, as of yet fails to remove his mouth from your balmy skin.

What’s next is unmistakable; yelling- now closer, accompanied a second later by frantic pounding on the sturdy front door of your home.

The shouting is almost completely unintelligible, except for one particularly loud phrase your feline ears pick up; “Boss! Open up!! Quick!”

“Rrrgh-!” Torg snarls in annoyance, teeth gritted, and pulls away from you. He tucks himself back into his wool trousers and approaches the door, preemptively bellowing at the closed door; “This had BETTER be good!”

You hear Torg fling the front door open, and then a muffled voice yelling in response. Though you can’t make out any specific words, you see Torg’s face fall even from where you sit, and then he immediately snaps into action.

“Kitten, I need you to listen to me for once-” He calls into the bedroom as he hastily shoves his feet into his boots. Seeing you now sitting upright with interest piqued and covering yourself with the cloak, he points to the floor for emphasis. “Stay. Here.”

And then he runs out into the snowy night, not even bothering to put on outwear, or gloves, or even a shirt, before he’s rushing out the door.

You try to obey the direct command this time, you really do- at least initially. You can’t go anywhere in your current state, anyway.

But the longer you lay there waiting for him to return, the more the sense of dread ferments.

That can’t have been anything good. And he’s not back yet. If it was no big deal he would be back already and you wouldn’t be laying here like a limp noodle.

What if… 

You can’t help but think of Fritz’ note. He’s never been one to skimp on consequences, so why would he start now?

This must be related, right?

Maybe you should get cleaned up…

Ultimately you only hold out for a few minutes longer until the gnawing need to know what’s happening overtakes your willingness to remain.

You get to your feet and quickly wash up, sure to pat dry yourself so that your skin and eyelashes don’t freeze in the cold night air. Then you redress using your discarded clothes from earlier that are still on the floor, step back into your boots, and head for the door.

As soon as the front door swings open, you immediately know something is terribly wrong.

The acrid scent of burning hits your nose. And even through the dim torchlight and the glow of the communal bonfire in the settlement’s center, you can clearly see a thick plume of dark smoke billowing upwards into the sky in the distance. It’s coming from the edge of the settlement.

You pass several dazed orcs standing around as you jog towards the source of the smoke. Some of them are talking in hushed tones amongst themselves, but many of them are just watching the smoke rise from their doorways or through windows, while other stragglers are still rushing in the same direction as you. You barely keep from breaking into a sprint, trying to resist the fomenting panic.

As you get closer, the source of the smoke is obvious.

The tailor shop is on fire.

The scene is steeped in chaos. Several orcs work to extinguish the still roaring flames with buckets of water and soil. Nearly all of the shop has been charred into a blackened husk at this point, with the fire just now reaching towards the ground, where the wood is still ripe to consume. Some orcs work where the flames have jumped to adjacent buildings, though it seems they are successfully cutting off the spread.

The air is full of smoke, flying embers, and the cacophony of yelling voices.

You feel ill.

First and foremost, you need, with every fiber of your being. to lay eyes on Torg.

Your eyes scan the gathered crowd frantically, searching for any sign of him in the swath of orc bodies rushing about.

Dammit. He usually sticks out like a sore thumb! Where is he?!

Finally, you spot him, and heave a massive sigh of relief. He’s not as obvious to the eye as he usually is because he’s sitting on a nearby log while Shaman gives him what looks like medical treatment.

Thanks to your excellent hearing, you can make out their hushed conversation over the shouting as you rush over.

"Walls weren't on fire at first." Torg says through a tampered-down cough.

"No, they weren't."

"Wasn't started from the ground, or from her fireplace, then."

"No, it wasn't."

"So. The roof."

"Yes. And no storm tonight. Just snow."

"No."

They finally notice your approach. Neither of them look particularly surprised to see you. 

“Well, look who it is!” Shaman gives you a warm, if a bit preoccupied smile. “This is becoming a regular community gathering!”

“Told you to stay put.” Torg says, exasperated and hacking, but not a hint of actual anger in his voice. “Don’t know why I try at this point...”

You want to throw yourself at him, but given that he’s still receiving healing treatment, you simply wring your hands in worry, watching Shaman work. They draw lines of white paint across Torg’s exposed chest from a wooden bowl nestled in their palm. It’s a stark contrast to the smudges of black soot all over his face, hair, and body.

“Oh, Torg-!” You bring a hand to your mouth to resist crying out, then lower it to continue speaking; “What happened? Is he going to be alright?!”

“Yes. He breathed in a lot of smoke, as one does when rushing into a burning building.” Shaman smirks down at Torg. “But I’ve already healed his burns and he’s going to make a full recovery.”

“You went into that fire?!” Your eyes go wide.

“Support beam collapsed- Too heavy for the other men.” Torg takes a moment between his explanation to hack a series of coughs into his fist. “Had to get Gorsha out.”

“Yes, it’s a shame you missed it, kitty cat. He looked so very heroic rushing out of that burning building carrying an old woman.” Shaman laughs, clearly trying to make light of a terrible frightening situation.

Torg simply scoffs, which turns into another cough.

“I can only imagine...” You say fondly, trying to match the light tone and failing miserably.

“And… there.” Shaman finishes the last stroke of the design on Torg’s chest, and the subtle, magical glow in their eyes subsides. “That should keep you held over until I can mix up more medicine.”

As soon as Shaman gives you a nod of approval, you finally throw yourself against Torg in a firm hug and press desperate kisses to his cheeks, not caring that you’re getting soot on your lips. He eagerly hugs you back, though he’s mindful not to put his blackened hands on the white fur of your new cloak.

There’s a sickening crack, then a long, drawn out squeal of wood splitting as the roof of the shop finally caves in completely. Scraps of burning cloth fill the air like confetti.

The sight and sound lets Torg’s words from earlier fully sink in. That’s when you notice the glaring absence. Your eyes desperately scan the crowd again, but find her nowhere.

“W-Wait- Where’s Granny? Is… Is she okay?” You finally manage to ask in a pathetically wavering voice, unable to keep the frog in your throat in check.

Torg and Shaman share a look that you know means bad news, and then Shaman speaks and pats your shoulder, their tone reassuring.

“She got treatment first. Some of the builders have carried her back to the infirmary already, with my apprentice. Her condition was worse, given her age and already existing health concerns… I’m going to keep a close watch on her overnight.”

A non-answer, albeit a gentle one. That didn’t sound like the best prognosis, not by a long shot.

The guilt gnaws at you.

You hope your mistake hasn’t killed her.

“Now, you should really stay at the infirmary tonight, too-” Shaman chides Torg.

“No Not doing that. I’m fine.” He clears his throat, some of the cough already quelling, but there is still an obvious wheeze to his breathing.

“Well. If you start to feel short of breath, you know where to go.” Shaman says, then speaks directly to you instead. “Do make sure he comes by if his symptoms worsen before morning. Or come fetch me and I’ll treat him at home, if he’s set on being such a stubborn ox about it.”

Torg laughs grimly.

“I will.” You affirm.

“Good. The new cloak looks lovely, by the way.” Shaman gives you a wink, and then bids you both a good what’s-left-of-the-night, and is off on their way back to the infirmary.

Torg insists he sticks around to make sure the fire is completely out, and you refuse to leave his side. At long last, you finally return home.

Once back in the safety of your shared home, you bring him a rag and some hot water, and Torg cleans the remaining soot off as best he can, before changing into a clean pair of pants. Then he’s flopped down onto the bed flat on his back, obviously drained completely of energy. 

His hair and body still reek of smoke and ash when you crawl into bed beside him, the scent clinging to him like a ghost. You still attach yourself to his side, because you can’t bring yourself to not hold onto him after what you saw earlier.

“Damned fire. So much work to do in the morning- So many repairs.” Torg grumbles and covers his face with one of his palms. “Your Joining will have to be rescheduled.”

“What? Oh…” You raise your head slightly, but then lay it back down on his bicep, which you’re currently using as a pillow. “Okay.”

That was the last thing you were thinking about at this point.

“I know. I’m sorry. You’re probably disappointed. But getting the buildings repaired has to come before celebrating.” Even with his voice this hoarse, he speaks to you gently.  “...And I’m sure you’ll want an outfit for the ceremony that isn’t burned to a crisp.”

“It’s fine.” You assure him. Nothing feels fine, but that is certainly the last thing you’re worried about at the moment. “Really.”

“Hmm.” Torg hums in acknowledgement, but seems unconvinced.

It doesn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep in the state he’s in.

Though you try to sleep as well, it proves impossible. No matter how you try to soothe yourself, rest just doesn’t come.

You squirm out from under Torg’s loving, heavy embrace. He stirs slightly, heavy eyelashes fluttering and fingers twitching at your absence. But he seems to be so fully exhausted that he doesn’t fully wake, not like the way he did after the festival half a year ago…

You find yourself pacing back and forth, going over the events of the day- the events of the last week, over-analyzing, trying to find any way out of this awful situation.

And you come to a single conclusion; You already know what you have to do.

You have no doubt that Torg could handle anything that Fritz and his goons would throw at him.

But that’s exactly the problem, you’ve realized. It’s not just a threat to you, or even to Torg anymore- with this incident, it’s a threat to the whole tribe. And while most of the tribe is hale and hearty and could easily take something like this in stride- your tribe also contains the elderly, the disabled, and children. Vulnerable people that your guildmaster would hurt without a second thought if it meant getting the thing he wanted from you.

That possibility hadn’t occurred to you, when you decided to stay for your Joining and chance your past coming back to bite after all… 

And if this is what the first step of retaliation looks like, you don’t want to see what the next will be.

You can’t. Not if people you care about will get hurt.

And like that, you’ve made your choice.

You quickly redress. Torg is still fast asleep.

You gently pull open the nightstand, sure to not let the glides make too much noise. You wait- Torg doesn’t so much as stir, so you continue.

You gingerly pull out the wooden box that houses the fibula. You decide to just take the box itself, rather than risking more noise by opening it.

You pull on your boots, one by one. You grab some jerky and dried fruit from the pantry, overly careful to not let the cabinet door hit the wood when you close it again- ironically something you learned a long time ago, when you were still a child that had to sneak food from the jarl’s pantry. You shove the rations into your pack, alongside the heirloom box. And finally, you pull on your cloak. Your old one, that is- you don’t think you can stand to take it with you, knowing what it represents, so you leave it draped over one of the dining chairs.

You come to a stop before the front door, listening for any sound of Torg waking up- but the house is silent, save for the sounds of the wood settling and Torg’s occasional deep snore from the other room.

You peer into the bedroom one last time. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest is visible.

You’re desperate to show him some kind of affection, knowing it will be the last. At least a goodbye kiss- something- it feels wrong not to, to disappear like a shadow when he means so much to you.

But you just can’t risk it. So, you swallow down the lump forming in your throat and press on.

You knew what would happen if you got attached. Still, you allowed it, and now that heartbreak is coming home to roost.

All you can offer is an unspoken I’m sorry before you finally, regrettably, peel your eyes away.

You slowly and silently pull the door open, careful to avoid hitting the creaky spot in the floorboards as you step across the threshold. Then, you bring the door slowly closed behind you, careful to not let it make much sound.

You stand there, straining to hear any disturbance. 

But there’s nothing. Just the silence of the very early morning. 

You pull the hood of your cloak up over your ears, but it seems to do nothing against the biting cold.

And then, finally, after that last moment of hesitation, you force yourself to move. You skulk off into the darkness, heading towards the treeline.

In the end, you suppose, it always had to be this way.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST

[turtlecleric]

Okay. I'm rereading Symphony after the Chapter 20 bombshell because I am so Very Unwell, and I'm keeping track of my thoughts here. SPOILERS for Symphony, obviously. I quote the fic a lot, and those quotes are in bold.

[I'm making a new post for this so that it's not so obnoxiously long and annoying for everyone's dash after I finish each chapter. I'll just update this one post instead of adding more and more reblogs.]

Last Chapter Reread: Chapter 20!! This post is finally complete!

Chapter 1

I'm just... I can't stop thinking about Violist-chan right now. Even from the very first chapter, it's established that she (in my opinion) is the type of person who really goes above and beyond to be thoughtful and considerate and just plain nice to people (as long as they aren't complete jerks obviously).

She put together goody bags for her neighbors because she was going to be practicing at home for a bit, and these bags had "ear plugs, ibuprofen, a small gift card to one of the local coffee shops, two homemade cookies, and a card with your handwriting on it" as well as her cell number so people could ask her to stop if need be, like???? Are you kidding me???? That's so much effort and time and actual money spent that she put into that, and she wasn't even close to any of her neighbors (at the time) or anything, she was just being considerate. And then at April's door she offers to go get more cookies for them just to prevent any sort of argument over the cookies. Then offers Casey a discount on violin lessons. Then offers to let him use and potentially buy one of her old violins since he doesn't have one. GIRL. LEO IS RIGHT. YOU'RE TOO NICE.

On another note, have we seen the diagonal neighbor yet that wasn't home when Vi was distributing cookies? I can't remember. I wonder if they're going to be important. I'm not dismissing ANYTHING anymore.

Oh my god. Her talking to April about becoming friends -> Quick, what’s something friends do together?! “We can… grab coffee sometime?” Shit, shit, that’s a date thing, right? Fuck!

Then just after, when she's alone -> “…Friend,” you echo stupidly, trying to think of when was the last time someone had called you that. To put it gently, that's not the word most people use to describe you. THIS HURTS ME. VIOLIST DEFENSE SQUAD ROLL OUT FOR REAL, LIKE WHAT THE FUCK?? SO WHAT, HAVE PEOPLE JUST BEEN NEGLECTING AND USING HER HER ENTIRE LIFE??? I'M SO ANGRY. (But also, Grace and Sinclair are perfectly nice and friendly... I feel like Vi really struggles with making and keeping friends? So she just. Keeps herself so busy that she doesn't have time to think about how actually lonely she really is?)

that little mindfulness trip you were pretending you were definitely going to take this year no really this time is also off the books

She straight up does not take care of herself and kind of knows that? She's never her own first priority. God.

A sense of unworthiness slides down your spine like ice; it doesn’t feel proper for you to receive praise for something that should just be normal.

The first time I read this I remember thinking that she was such a good person for this mentality, but now this makes me think of the (Stupid girl. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid) stuff we've been getting lately. I'm so sad for her, I wonder if she's always struggled with negative thoughts and feelings about herself and the relationship with Alopex made it worse?

You look tired, you think, studying the bags under your eyes and the frown on your face. Do you always look this tired? Is this the face everyone sees you wear? Is this how the world knows you?

Once again. I am so sad for her.

When April runs into her and her laundry goes everywhere and she just. 'It's okay, I got it, go on, don't worry' like I'm??? SO????? I'm not mad at April or anything obviously, but this is just another instance of Vi putting herself last, behind literally everyone else. ALL SHE DOES IS GIVE GIVE GIVE.

What an excellent introduction to her character.

---

Chapter 2

Vi talking about the proper sitting technique with Casey - "You’ll get used to it. Maybe someday you’ll be like me and that’s just how you sit now.” 

This is hitting me because yes obviously she's a professional musician so it makes perfect sense, but also the idea of doing something that starts out as uncomfortable for so long, over and over and over, until it feels natural to you... kind of like how she's made being alone (in the ways that matter), staying busy, and putting others first into her normal.

God. Casey still, even after so long, having to remind himself that his life is no longer a genuine toss up every day. "Plenty of time" must have been such a foreign concept that he still struggles with at times.

Vi is genuinely so funny. I need to shower her in compliments immediately.

Ooh, you misread that one. ... “Sorry, I just assumed-"

GOD. Vi seeing a relationship between Casey and April where there wasn't one (yet). This hits different after chapter 20. Fuck.

you’re kind of desperate for pleasant things at the moment

I'm going to cry. This is literally only the second chapter and nothing has really happened yet but I'm really realizing how much I love Vi and want her to be happy. I want her to be taken care of so badly. My heart aches for her.

Donnie: "I apologize. I misunderstood.” HM. ANOTHER NOD TO MISUNDERSTANDINGS. This has GOT to be intentional. I'm so angry (impressed).

Vi, to Donnie about Casey: "if I find out that you’re being a dick, we’re going to have words.” She's so fiercely protective of others. But for herself??? Nah. Let it go, be the bigger person, blah blah blah. I'm going to fling myself into the sun.

---

Chapter 3

Baking apology cookies for April and Donnie. ONCE AGAIN. VI IS TOO NICE. GOD.

“Typical Donnie stuff,” April says, opening the oven to check on whatever smells amazing inside. “Being a smug little buttface. Jumping to conclusions. Running his big mouth.”

YEAH. YEP. TYPICAL DONNIE STUFF. GOD.

Vi just. So easily and quickly forgiving Donnie after their first meeting. Despite her justifiable anger. I'm. Gritting my teeth. (I LOVE Donnie, I will ALWAYS be a Donnie girl, but I cannot help being so, so angry with him after chapter 20.)

Leo's first appearance!! God I love him so fucking much. (I cannot wait for his talk with Vi whenever we finally make it to Saturday in the fic. I'm also slightly terrified that whatever he tells Vi will be some sort of... betrayal? I don't think my heart could take being upset with both Donnie AND Leo... we'll see.)

The pressure that Vi felt while Leo was studying her... I'm still wondering if the pressure was an actual like... mystical thing, somehow? Or if it's just his Presence, if he's just that good, that he can make his scrutiny something almost physical.

him not knowing you well enough to know you don’t normally look this exhausted

Is that even true, though? I feel like Vi IS always exhausted. How could she not be? Literally HOW does she even function, honestly?

"They’d have to get through me if they wanted to do something, and god, April, I was hoping they would, all but begging them to, I was so fucking mad—”

Once again, she is so fiercely protective of others. And I'm almost... worried about it. She really does throw herself in harms way without a second thought. I almost wonder if... some part of her welcomes some kind of... punishment or backlash or something. 'Better me hurt than anyone else' kind of thing, you know? And there was a line a few paragraphs before that - you tug on a lock of hair to distract yourself from getting too worked up - and that, paired with the recent things she's been doing in 20 and 21, gripping her arms and leaving crescent marks, pressing into the bruises Donnie left, only forcing herself to eat in front of Leo so he doesn't worry... all of that is very familiar to me in the worst way. I'm so worried about her.

you look up to see three faces looking at you with various levels of awe. It makes you sick, seeing it, knowing that they think you’re something incredible when you’re just doing the bare minimum. Your arms fold, nails digging into your biceps - again, I remember reading this the first time and thinking she was so great, and she IS, but I'm so so WORRIED about her. Also, once again, the digging nails into her skin thing. Worried. WORRIED.

(I love April so much. God. She deserves more love and attention from me, she really is such a good friend.)

Leo, you note, has been quiet for this entire conversation. You notice it suddenly ... Even when you look at him and his eyes meet your own, staring, staring, he doesn’t say anything, and his face is blank.

I'm obsessed with him. I'm obsessed with whatever is going on in his head. I'm obsessed. I was obsessed then, I'm obsessed now, I will stay obsessed. I love him.

“This was—so amazing, oh my god,” you tell April and Casey. “I’m so glad we’re friends. Can we do this all the time? I’ll bring cookies and bread and stuff.”

SHE'S SO LONELY. SHE JUST WANTS FRIENDS. VI, YOU DON'T HAVE TO BRIBE PEOPLE TO GET THEM TO HANG OUT WITH YOU. I'M SO GODDAMN SAD.

Leo saying Vi is good with people. And Casey earlier saying that Donnie is NOT good with people. And just. Chapter 20, with her blaming herself for not seeing what was going on. For thinking she's so stupid and everything is on her. Chapter 21, with the (Did you try?). I'm so so angry. I'm sick with it.

Vi is so smart. Putting things together and making connections and realizing things that others might miss - even Leo acknowledges it. So having the chapter 20 realization... more and more I'm convinced that, yeah sure Vi is an unreliable narrator, but I REALLY feel like Donnie is just a fucking idiot (I mean that so affectionately, I promise).

"I’d… like to have more nights like this one. To. To have a family. If I can.” “You can,” he says, reaching out a hand and laying it over yours...

Then Leo talking about how you're like Donnie, implying how it'd be fun to watch Vi and Donnie get closer... does Leo feel guilty over this now? Now that Vi is so fucking... Hurt? Does he partly blame himself for the pain she's experiencing now?

you do feel a small twinge of sympathy for how easily he dismisses his troubles

OH OTHERS DISMISSING THEIR TROUBLES???? HM. HM.

Finally, sure you’re alone and no one’s here to ever know, you let yourself cry.

Seriously, I am on the Violist defense squad for life. I would die for her. God.

---

Chapter 4

Normally you’d ignore it [her phone going off], since it’d be something innocuous like a bank notification, or maybe something as spicy as a wrong number. But you have, like, friends now. 

:( just. Reiterating how goddamn lonely she is. My eyes are actually watering over this. WE'RE NOT EVEN TO THE BIG STUFF YET AND I'M SO FUCKING SAD.

having to do a double-take when you see yourself looking positively ghoulish

Does she ever describe herself as looking good?? I'm thinking back to the aquarium, surely she thought she looked nice for that, at least, but aside from then I can't remember??? Has Donnie even once called her beautiful or pretty or even nice looking? I can't REMEMBER and I'm having FEELINGS about it.

Agreeing to make Casey some bread immediately upon being asked, even though she'd have to go to the store to get everything she needs. I get the feeling she is like 'if I make myself useful, if I pair my presence with things they like, maybe they'll keep me around' and I don't know how unconscious that whole thought process is for her but I'm seeing it a lot.

Now that you’re keeping your window locked pathologically, the old game of sneaking in via the fire escape is off the table.

Wait... did I miss something about the window staying locked? Hang on what the fuck. Is this a throwaway line or does this mean something? HANG ON I'M PANICKING NOW WHY WAS THIS ONCE A THING BUT NOW IT'S NOT????

the more you forget to eat during the season

Do not like this. That it's just normal for her to forget to eat so often during the season. This is probably just me looking into it too deeply, I know people do this all the time, but I Do Not like it and I need someone to take care of her so badly. Like Leo has been doing lately, tbh. She deserves the world. (Am I... falling in love with the fucking insert character? I might be. Dammit.)

(Mikey appears!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHH)

Donnie to Vi at the store: “You look a lot less like you got hit by a garbage truck."

BOY IF YOU DON'T- HHHHHHHH I'M FINE.

“I’d been under the impression that you had your feelings hurt by what I’d said,” he says, raising his fingers and curling them into quotes around the word. ... "...apologies are dumb.”

Clenching. My. Jaw. I love him, I find him so charming and funny, but knowing about chapter 20 just has me so full of rage that these little comments are killing me now.

Aaaand Vi agreeing to make Leo cookies now. Once again. Doing things for others. Almost constantly, honestly.

it’s more a stress thing than a hobby [Vi talking about baking]

Hm. Her stress response is to be busy/useful to others. Hmmmmm.

While making bread for Casey, she made a whole other loaf of bread just for Leo. And then when Casey slips up about saying he'd never touched an oven before - you shrug one shoulder to show you’re chill with the secret. “…It’s, uh. Not impossible to believe, I guess?” you say, hoping to comfort. - she is always so focused on making others feel better. Constantly. Repeat after me: trauma.

"You’ve proved yourself to be a capable consultant."

Pursing my lips at this comment from Donnie.

You’re almost certainly projecting, but you tuck away the feeling nonetheless.

Pursing. My. Lips.

Vi: “…Sorry, I’m, uh. Kind of new to the friend thing. I’m still learning.”

Donnie: “Well, that won’t be a problem you’ll have for long. Practice makes perfect, and as a perfectionist myself, I’ll ensure your training will be thorough.”

This just. I. I know I've got a lot to reread before we get to the "relationship" but like??? I can't remember, but is he still under the impression that he's training her in friendship while he's fucking her? Yes, it's an experiment, but?????? Even then?????? I'M?????? I cannot fathom- I just don't- UGH THIS STUPID FUCKER

---

Chapter 5

God. The insights into Donnie's issues. Hits me just as hard the second time around. It... does soften my anger with him a little. To remind myself how intense his touch aversion was/is.

My heart still aches for Vi, obviously, but my heart aches for Donnie, too. He's doing the best he can with what he's got - like most people. I love him to death and I want him to be happy, too. He's not the villain. He can be a jerk, yeah, but the bombshell in chapter 20 to me really is just a misunderstanding. He's not being cruel. He just doesn't understand. (UNLESS I'M WRONG. IN WHICH CASE. DEATH.) But genuinely... it's just a tragic situation right now. Anyway, back to chapter five.

“…Can you check up on him for me?” you ask Leo, bringing your hands to your chest and curling them together in a self-soothing gesture. “I’m worried I might have upset him, somehow. He was okay until I asked him about it.”

Sorry I'm back on my "Vi deserves the world, she cares so much about others, always thinks of others and tends to blame herself for things too often, I'm going to lose my mind" bullshit.

"…He seems lonely.”

YOU SEEM LONELY. VI. I AM HUGGING YOU SO HARD RN.

---

Chapter 6

You, for one, are still feeling a little awkward from whatever hot mess had happened over dinner last night and hadn’t felt comfortable being the first one to reach out despite Leo’s wordless promise that things were fine.

Donnie, it seems, does not share the same issue, or at least has overcome it. …Then again, it’s completely possible that you’re overthinking all of this, you suppose, texting him back as if nothing had happened.

I can only wonder about the difference we'll see between this and what happens when Vi and Donnie talk now (after the incident in Chapter 20). I'm HOPING there is open and honest communication... but we'll see.

You’re not exactly sure what’s going on between your ears, but it’s starting to leak out and project your thoughts onto others, making you see things.

:( so mad at myself. So goddamn mad I never saw the unreliable narrator thing coming. She WASN'T just seeing things here, but still. Little hints here and there like this are slapping me in the face now.

"I don’t want you to hurt your hand.”

Your chest squeezes a bit at his care

The bar is on the floor honestly. She needs someone to care about her enough that something like that doesn't give her that kind of reaction.

(Even with my anger and sorrow for Vi, Donnie still has me falling for him as I reread this. God.)

[April talking] “…I knew you were a good one,” she says, causing you to scoff and turn your face when you feel it warm. “Nuh uh, you’re gonna take the compliment this time, girlie.” Yes April!! My girl!!! She really is so amazing.

“Wow! I see no one but Donnie loves me,” you gripe

Hey what's up I'm crying

Vi making a mental note to make everyone a batch of cookies... I won't repeat myself. Okay, fine, I will - if I can manage to stay useful, if I can pair myself with things they like, maybe they'll keep me around.

(On a side note........ Mikey refers to Leo's thirst traps on his So-Shell account...... I would like to see them)

“Any idea why Donnie’s looking at you like you’re the first slice of pepperoni pizza from a particularly yummy-smelling box?”

Leo once again teasing you about Donnie...

[Vi Talking] "This is so nice. I like hanging out here.”

WHY CAN'T I HUG HER. WHY. LET ME HUG HER.

Jeez rereading this reminds me just how much Leo was sort of playing matchmaker between Vi and Donnie. He HAS to feel guilty now. Mad at Donnie, yeah, but also so guilty over all the things he did to push and encourage and tease.

You’ve been hugged more in the last few days than you probably have your entire life, and it feels so, so good, like you’re loved and you belong and they’re telling you that with their bodies as much as their words.

ONCE AGAIN. MAY I PLEASE HUG HER. That section is about how Donnie hasn't had that in a really long time, and that is heartbreaking, but I'm still really focused on Vi. Please let me hug her. Please.

---

Chapter 7

It’s tempting to think about the small things he’s done that could be him reciprocating your feelings; how he lets you into his lab, how his eyes consume you, how he lets you touch him, seems to crave it even.

[Through tears] yeah. Easy.

he’s an attractive genius ninja who could have anyone he wanted. And you’re just… you.

JUST YOU??? YOU ARE AMAZING. YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING. I WILL KILL FOR YOU, VI. FUCK.

Vi is so fucking funny. And smart. Well, of course, she's a perfect match for Donnie, and I love Donnie, so it makes sense, but still. I hate that she thinks so lowly of herself.

“Challenge? Absolutely not. I’m not even remotely dressed for that,” you deny, hesitating when Leo rolls his eyes. “…But I guess I can do one song.”

She sees Leo roll his eyes and relents. ONCE AGAIN I may be reading too into things, but I'm getting this... feeling about that. Idk. She WILL chew you out if you're an asshole. She WILL bicker and banter and razz. She isn't a pushover or anything at ALL, but... idk what I'm trying to say. This is making me think that, at least with people she really wants to like her, any sign of them being annoyed or upset by her has her internally scrambling to fix it. I'm probably just protecting here but. Idk.

Leo winking when you go off with Donnie. :(

“I don’t… like it when people touch me,” ... “—but it feels different when it’s you,” he says, and this time when his gaze meets yours, your breath latches in your throat like a lock and his eyes are clouded with a hesitant clarity, like he knows exactly what he’s saying but he doesn’t understand why he’s saying it.

Come on. Come ON. He doesn't understand. This HAS to mirror him not understanding the nature of their relationship later on, right??

It’s possible, you suppose, that you’re misunderstanding what he’s implying—again projecting what you want to hear on his words.

Flinging myself. Into. The sun.

[Donnie's] tone tucking into a more clinical tone like a safety blanket

Just like how viewing the relationship from a strictly clinical, experimental point of view protects him. Am I reading into this right? This is still early, before Vi sees them as having gotten together, but it mirrors what happens later, right? It's a defense thing for him, to see their activities as strictly an experiment and to not let himself look any closer whether he realizes it or not?

(GOD. JUST GOTTA TAKE A BREATHER HERE. THE TOUCH STUFF. I'M WEAK. STILL. I'M WEAK. I CANNOT COMMENT FURTHER ON IT BECAUSE I JUST. GOD.)

“What? I can’t compliment my bestie and her fine legs?” Leo coos, reaching over and flicking your nose gently.

“Leonardo,” Donnie warns, folding his arms.

I'm sorry. What other way is there to read this aside from Donnie already feeling a little possessive over Vi? Also I'm glad Leo is giving her compliments pretty often. SOMEONE needs to.

So many little things that indicate Donnie likes her, really truly likes her... HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY BLAME VI WITH ALL THIS BUILDUP AND EVIDENCE. I'M FUCKING. UGHHHH

---

Chapter 8

Having such amazing friends wants you to reach out and have a little piece of that, maybe learn how to be a little amazing yourself, too.

You ARE amazing. I'm crying in the fucking club over Vi. What the FUCK.

God. The anti-mutant guy in the coffee shop. Once again she so easily sticks up for others without a single thought to her own wellbeing. Also, the random guy that stepped in and started beating that fucker... again, I'm not letting anything go. I wonder if he's actually just a random guy or if he's important/will come back into play. Also, Vi getting hurt and thinking "it better not stop me from practicing" like??? I SWEAR. (Workaholic. Must be useful. Must keep going so I don't have time to wallow in loneliness. etc.)

Just noticing, again, how Vi tries so hard to respect boundaries. Not asking April about Casey's past while she talks with April in the coffee shop, even after April lets a little comment slip. She tries to respect boundaries so hard and takes on so much emotional labor. That's not nothing.

Donnie tells her to send another pic of herself in the bath. Says he noticed she wasn't wearing her perfume recently. I'm sorry. WHAT is platonic about that. Literally I do not fucking understand. God. Just fucking shoot me.

Irritable, you at least make yourself useful and clean your apartment

The way she phrases that. Make yourself useful. I'm. SIGH. I need to hug her. It's not a want, at this point, it's a need.

you watch as his brows furrow again, his lips pursing. “…I don’t like this.”

“The bruise? Me neither. It fucking hurts.”

“Someone else’s handprint on you,” he specifies.

Come ON. And then saying he enjoys touching her. COME ON. How is he not in love with her? He's GOTTA be.

She calls him beautiful. He. He doesn't say it back. This kills the man (the man is me). He does say he's enjoying holding her hand, but that's tied back to the experiment. I'm so sad.

When Leo accidentally hurts Vi by pressing the bruise and she is like "it's fine I'm fine" AND moves away so Donnie doesn't touch her because she's hyper aware that Donnie doesn't want Leo to know about the touch thing?? CONSTANTLY. THINKING. OF OTHERS.

“…You don’t even get how incredible you are, do you?” he asks, causing you to roll your eyes. “You seriously don’t see it.”

YES LEO. YES. TELL HER. I'M SO!!!!! UGH.

---

Chapter 9

Wearing a line into your rug, you shake your hands as you fret, brain racing a million miles an hour while your muscles buzz with the need to be productive.

I know I'm repeating myself, but I'm so sad for her. This is one of the million little things that makes me worry so much over Vi. The need to be productive, the anxiety over it even when she has a legitimate reason to take it easy.

[Leo] His frown deepens, eyes going a little dark with anger. It reminds you, a bit, of the energy you’d felt before he’d known you; when a simple stare had all the hairs on your body standing on end, paralyzed, a rabbit before a stalking wolf.

Sorry, wolf Leo? Sorry, villain au? Hhhhhhhhhhhhhh OK ok sorry I'm back to normal Sorry

You swallow at the sight of it, and, needing to soothe, change the subject before he can really engage with it

Needing to soothe. God. GOD. Seriously, I cannot stop thinking about how this might be a result of trauma just because I see it so often with Vi. Like she's... taking responsibility for other people's potential negative emotions/reactions when it's people she's close to. Feeling the need to do anything she can to prevent a blowup or whatever. I'm unwell.

Leo may be better at reading people than you, but you’re still really good.

This kills me. I'm TELLING you, man, Donnie is in love with her and she thought it was a relationship because it SHOULD be, it WOULD be if Donnie wasn't oblivious to his own feelings (or maybe he has different views on what a relationship is? Maybe there are unspoken laws in his head about what constitutes this sort of relationship vs that sort of relationship? Idk I'm honestly sort of an idiot so I'll just have to wait and see what Sam reveals about all this, but I can't help reeling all over again when lines like this pop up).

[Helping Leo relax and sleep] It’s not practicing, but it is something productive you can do, in a way. The need to be useful. Again. I'm crying.

“Want some water? I’ll grab us something.” ... “Sure,” you tell him, knowing he needs to take care, to provide in order to feel in control,

Even letting someone else do something for her is framed as her trying to be useful. I'm FUCKING crying.

So you sit, quiet, letting him use you,

That wording. Letting him use you. God. GOD. I'm not joking when I tell you my heart fucking aches for Vi. This isn't anything bad - she's just helping Leo get some sleep - but the phrasing of letting him use her. I'm so deeply unwell.

[Leo says] “You n’ Donnie really are perfect for each other.”

Yeah. Fuck.

“You work too much, you know that?"

YOU'RE RIGHT, LEO. YOU'RE SO FUCKING RIGHT.

...peering into the plastic bag to find a sweet spread of sushi. Wow, Leo really felt bad about the drool thing, you muse.

Alternatively, he appreciates the fuck out of you. Hang on I'm gonna look Too Hard at this real quick. The idea that Vi naturally defaults to Leo getting her nice sushi because he feels guilty rather than thankful. The idea that she isn't doing anything worthy of appreciation or praise, but rather that he mostly just feels obligated to make up for drooling on her. I need to hug her please. I'm actually begging at this point.

[Thinking about Donnie] It’s ridiculous how he can be so smart and so stupid at the same time

YEAH. YEAH. YEAH. FUCK.

“It’s just so funny to think of him apparently hating classical music now, because before, he always used to listen to—” Casey starts lightheartedly, though his jaw snaps shut and his face goes very, very still. Terrorized eyes snap wide on your face like he’s seeing you for the first time, like you’re a myth come to life. ... “…Oh, no,” he warbles, his lips quivering as he looks at you like he’s seen a ghost. Then, with a jolt, he shakes his head, clutching at the back of his nape hard and looking off to the side, a tormented fake smile on his face that looks sharp as a knife and like it’s cutting him just as much to hold it. “I-It’s nothing, just… Just thought about something I’d heard when I was a kid, once. I just… suddenly realized something, is all.” ... He looks like he has War and Peace on the tip of his tongue as he nearly consumes your face, memorizing it even,

OH MY GOD. OUCH. HAHA. HA. YEAH. OKAY. YEAH.

It makes you clutch your biceps, nails digging into your flesh, muscles pulling tight as you fret, fret, fret.

There it is again, the nails digging into skin. A little thing, but it has the potential to be dangerous, or even to hint at something dangerous being a possibility in the future. (Me projecting, projecting, projecting, always.)

God. I'm falling in love with Donnie once again. When will I be stopped.

“You—I’m so mad at you for doing this when I told you not to, but also this is the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me, and I want to thank you but I don’t have any cookies on me at the moment.”

Hey look I'm gonna Read Way Too Into Things again. She says this as if her words mean nothing. As if saying thank you and verbally expressing her gratitude is not enough, so she has to do something (be useful be useful be useful) to really be expressing her gratitude. (I get that sometimes words don't feel like enough, especially when we're so overcome with gratitude and we want the other person to REALLY get how thankful we are, I promise I get that, but it's just all these little tiny constant bits that have me seeing innocuous things like this as so much more. I'm sorry, again, I'm probably projecting.)

Also, just saying this so I have it on record, but Donnie has very firmly confirmed that he has befriended her, here. Just saying. For my sanity.

(The touch stuff. I'm on fire. I am burning as I type. God.)

[Raph] “Don’t mention it. Worrying is what I do."

That comment makes me so sad. Everything makes me sad. I'm a sad sack over every single person in this goddamn fic.

(Third Law. I'm soft.)

Leo calling Vi a "lovely lady" - once again, thank God someone is complimenting her.

Leo giving Donnie a flat look... I need to know what is going on in his mind like I need air.

LEO ASKING IF EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND CALLING HER HERMOSA AND BEAUTIFUL. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.

---

Chapter 10

Mikey is so!!! I love him I love him I love him I-

(Mikey calls her cute in the group chat 💕 sweetest boy)

Vi making more cookies for the boys. Again. (Useful useful useful)

Huffing out in relief, you smile and nod, showing him the ulnar flossing exercises

Vi feeling relief that Mikey asks to see the wrist stretches... relief that she is being useful. Relief that she can help. Sigh.

When Donnie is laying on the cot, he asks Vi to stay and: the angle he’s using to tug on you is encouraging you to lie down instead. You hesitate, swallowing thickly, causing him to huff out an annoyed sigh, his eyes falling shut into a frown.

“If you’d rather go find Leo—”

“What? No,” you say, baffled he’d even think that. You try to remember the words he’d used yesterday, when you’d asked for a hug, ready to use them against him. “It’s just that this is a… a rather large escalation of contact.”

“Oh,” Donnie says, his frown smoothing out a bit. “Not really? It’s essentially the same thing?”

“…But in bed?” you clarify, wondering if maybe there’s some kind of turtle-brained thing that makes horizontal touches no different, or if you’re just overreacting.

HANG ON. THIS HITS DIFFERENT NOW.

he starts the music and then tucks back into you like that’s just what the two of you do.

...Donnie doesn't have a lot of friends, either. Do you think he really doesn't see the stuff that's happening as romantic? Does he think, even once the sex starts, that it's not unusual for friends to engage in that sort of thing as long as they agree to it beforehand? Or is he so deluded into thinking she wouldn't want him romantically that HE'S thinking she sees the experiment as the only reason to do that stuff with him, so there's no way they could really be together in a romantic relationship? (I'm trying so hard to understand and give him credit here. I'm gonna have to reread chapter 20 again for what he says exactly because I feel so stupid.)

Eager to stop what looks like an imminent meltdown from Mikey, you step forward first and start piling food onto your plate. “It looks great, Mike,” you tell him, both out of honestly and also to get him to look at you and smile instead of glaring at his brothers.

Once again Vi is taking responsibility for preventing conflict/negative emotions between people she cares about.

You’re glad your back is turned on the way to the table when he says that, as none of the turtles see the way your face crumples just a little at the wave of emotion that grips you when he calls you family.

(Lonely lonely lonely) let me hug her!!!!

Leo calls her a pretty girl when he's on the phone with Donnie in her apartment. Once again, I love him SO MUCH for being loose with his compliments, because Vi deserves people who will make her feel good about herself, but also he's clearly riling Donnie up with comments like that - what way is there to read it other than Donnie liking Vi romantically and feeling possessive over her? Everything points to Donnie either just being dense about his own feelings or not fully understanding what a relationship IS if he really doesn't see them as in a relationship by chapter 20. Unless I'm so incredibly missing the point, which is always possible because I am, in fact, an oblivious idiot most of the time.

---

Chapter 11

("lbjean_87’s Insta profile" is a reference, I'm sure, but idk what exactly other than the "87" for the 87 tmnt cartoon)

The whole interaction with Barry where he says Vi is having a positive impact on the boys... and she's uncomfortable with the implication that she's doing something special, struggling with someone pointing it out, struggling to accept that she is a special person who positively impacts others...

Barry hums thoughtfully. “I see. It is not that you are self-depreciating. You are, in fact, just an idiot.”

Hm. Just pointing this out because I forgot about it. It's so ingrained for her to diminish what she does for others, and he sees that I think... but also. This line from Barry being in THIS chapter, where the whole misunderstanding STARTS.

“Why are you sorry?”

You exhale a sharp breath, running a frustrated hand through your hair. “I’m sorry he found out? That I didn’t keep our promise not to let anyone know? That he tried to hug you and you freaked out? That I haven’t been helping you with your touch thing as much as I’d hoped I was? I mean, fuck, pick one, dude.”

Again, she takes on so much responsibility and guilt. I'm SO interested in learning more about her relationship with Alopex (and any other trauma that may have contributed to all of these things I'm noticing that she does).

Okay nobody panic but I'm finally to The Point where they establish some things and set up for the bombshell.

“…Intimate touches,” you repeat, turning back to look at him once you’ve pulled yourself away from the brink of flying right out of your own skin. “Like… what, petting? Kissing? Sex? What are we talking about, exactly?”

“All of it, ideally,” he says. “I’m quite curious to study how I’ll react, especially considering the whole touch aversion situation.”

Curious how he'd react... oh my god. He doesn't say anything about a relationship at all. This is killing me. It's all focused on the experiment. I'm a fucking fool.

“…Do… Do you wanna try it?” you ask, a tiny glittering light threatening to bloom like a sun in your chest. “…Us, together, I mean?”

Okay yeah. "Us together" could just be read as "us doing those things together" rather than "us being together in a romantic relationship." Goddddd.

Giddy excitement spreads over his face unlike what you’ve seen before. “Really? With… With me?” he asks, and god, the sight of him so openly happy makes you fucking ascend.

So the first time, I read that as 'you're really open to dating me (and all the things that come with that)?' But now it's ONLY 'you're willing to do sex stuff with me/to help more with my touch thing and sate my curiosity?' SAD. DEVASTATED. EMOTIONALLY DESTROYED.

“Of course, I—” ... “Donnie, I… of course. I’d be stupid to say no, right?”

“Oh, that’s such a relief,” he says, closing his eyes and sighing into your palm. “I’ve been making spreadsheets of things I’ve wanted to try for several days and wondering how best to bring it up, especially considering—well. It’s quite helpful that you did so yourself. Excellent work, consultant.”

Fuck. FUCK. Consultant, he calls her. It really is still an experiment to him at this point. And the first time I thought it was just a cute tease, a bit of funny flirting, but it WASN'T. FUCK. Sam is a genius. I hate myself. He's focused on the spreadsheets and things he's been wanting to try for his touch aversion. He's giddy because of that, not because he's getting into an official relationship with her. (I still think he's in love with her and maybe just doesn't realize it fully, but holy God his words are actually focused on the experiment here.) What would he have said after "especially considering" if he hadn't cut himself off??? FUCK.

[Vi talking] "We’re partners, now, so we have to take care of each other."

Partners. Still worded to fit with the experiment mindset, so of course that wouldn't tip off Donnie. Fuck.

[Donnie talking] “I’d… like to keep this between the two of us as well, for now. To the confines of the lab. While we establish the parameters.” ... “I have no interest in keeping anything a secret. I only want to improve the quality of our partnership's results before sharing, nothing more."

Again, it's not named as a romantic relationship. He just calls it 'this' and a 'partnership' when he talks about their arrangement. (The clinical talk... 'improve quality of results before sharing.' Fuck. FUCK.)

Rereading the sexy stuff is fucking PAINFUL now. Oh my god.

“Don’t move,” he growls, making you freeze in place even as his brows furrow hard and his grip loosens almost immediately. “I—Sorry. Sorry, I—I don’t know where that came from.”

Stuff like this has me wondering again if he really doesn't understand what he's feeling with Vi. And that lack of understanding is reinforcing his focus on it being an Experiment, because he wants to understand how he's responding and why, to understand what he's feeling, and to do that he needs to gather and study data.

Donnie goes stiff when April calls and asks if Vi is with Leo. That's not the first time Donnie does something that indicates jealousy or possessiveness over Vi, but what if it's something else? It's only with Leo that I can remember, but I thought that was because Leo is the only one constantly hanging out with/touching/complimenting Vi, but what if it's something else regarding Leo? I really do not know what else it could be, but... I'm trying not to assume things anymore that aren't confirmed through dialog.

you sigh, turning your face into the pillow and inhaling deeply. It smells like Donnie, making your toes curl in delight. Pulling away, you look over to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, studying you. “…What are you doing?”

Yeah if they're not in a relationship it makes sense for him to react like that. (I'm so goddamn sad)

“You… promise you’ll tell me if you change your mind about this, right?”

“About… us?” you ask, and when he nods, you sit up, pressing your forehead to his. “Donnie, I—”

“—Promise?” he interrupts, making your mouth close.

“…Promise,” you tell him. And, since it’s clearly so important to him, “You promise? You’ll tell me?”

“I won’t change my mind,” he assures, making you shake your head. He sighs. “Yes. I promise.”

Hits different. God. I need to be in this fucker's head. I need his exact reasoning for thinking he won't change his mind. Is it curiosity regarding the outcome? Is it because he really likes her (and recognizes that)? I don't know!!

D - Just informing you that the nap did indeed take place.

V - i’m so glad!! thanks for letting me know

D - It would be a poor business exchange if I didn’t.

BUSINESS EXCHANGE. FUCK. I'M GOING TO WALK INTO TRAFFIC.

---

[Through tears] Chapter 12

Vi is so happy. So happy that she's helping Donnie with touch, Leo with sleep, Mikey with his hands (useful, useful, useful). So happy to be in a "relationship" with Donnie. She is so happy, and I am so, so sad.

Sinclair (I think it's Sinclair, Vi doesn't know/remember her name yet and I'm just a terrible with my memory) refers to a Ren. Renet, maybe?? 👀

You leave a little bit earlier than you usually do since you’re meeting Leo for lunch

YES there's a little bit of that positive influence on Vi bc of the boys! Leave practice early baby!!

Drinking with your neighbors, a boyfriend, lunch with your best friend… It feels like you’re cheating, a little. Like you’ve gotten something you don’t completely deserve.

[Clutching heart] that's a one-two punch. Vi calling Donnie her boyfriend in her head, and then Vi feeling like she didn't EARN the happiness she's feeling. OUCH.

Oh FUCK. The whole interaction with Leo in the kitchen. So many things. Leo's reaction to you confirming that you touch Donnie and that Donnie touches you. Vi doing that thing again where she digs her nails into her skin. Comparing Leo to a wolf and Vi to a rabbit (stop it blurple villain au, STOP IT, I'm trying to focus). I'm not gonna copy paste the entire section, but Leo's reaction is SO.... hang on

“Him wanting to put his hands all over you? Wanting to touch you? Mark you up? How far have you two gone, huh? Should I just pick a place on you and see if he’s touched that, too? Or is that another thing I’m not allowed to know?” ... “Why are you the one he—” Leo snarls

Is he really just that angry and bitter because Donnie hasn't let his family touch him in so long? Because Donnie hasn't let LEO touch him in so long? Because, relatively quickly, Vi has managed to push past that barrier when Leo couldn't? Or is he mad because it's intimate touches, specifically? Why exactly? Because Leo likes Vi? I don't think that's it, but again I'm trying not to assume or overlook things. Leo was playing matchmaker with them so hard toward the beginning, and now he reacts like this? What did he think was going to happen? Do you remember him asking Vi if she was single and saying she and Donnie were perfect for each other? Because I do. Did he want them together but assumed they wouldn't be touching no matter what since that's been Donnie's default mode for so long? I'm so dense I do not understand. LET ME IN YOUR HEAD. LEOOOOOOO.

Your back hits the wall behind you hard as you flinch away instinctively. ... Your arms have covered your face, your whole body quaking as you fight to make yourself as small as possible. ... when you don’t move, when you can’t speak ... taking in your terrified posture ... You close your eyes, feeling the tears continue to stream down your cheeks. Clenching your teeth, swallowing the adrenaline rushing in your veins screaming for you to stay still and not move ... He’s safe! you scream to yourself, trying to remember that it’s gospel. He’s safe! He’s safe! He’s safe! ... Sobs tear out of your lungs in massive heaving rolls that leave you shaking against him.

Is Vi's visceral reaction of fear ONLY due to Leo being Just That Scary? Or has she experienced physical violence from someone close to her before? She can stand her ground against asshole strangers that actually try to hurt her (for example, the guy from the coffee shop and guy in the park - or wherever it was, I don't remember and I'm not there yet, but it was when she fell in the water sticking up for Raph), chase after mutant silverfish with a music stand, react quickly to protect the kids when shots are fired, run to Dakota after the bomb goes off, etc. etc. And those were Real Dangerous Situations, too. The difference here is it's Leo. Her best friend. Someone she's close to, someone she trusts. When it's a person like that, she freezes in fucking terror... and remember the other times she's tried to step in when someone close to her starts getting angry? To soothe, to deescalate...

He’s safe. He’s your best friend. He’s family. He’s Leo, and the fact that even a tiny piece of you was afraid of him—it horrifies you. ... “I-I’m sorry, too. I-I didn’t mean to—I don’t know why I—I know you’d n-never—” “Instinct,” he cuts off clinically. Hollowly. “You were scared. I scared you.”

I think I'm looking too hard at this maybe. She's horrified that she was scared, and she says "I don't know why" she reacted like that, and if she'd experienced violence with someone close to her in the past surely she would've thought something about it, connected those dots in her mind at that point? I don't know. I suppose we'll have to wait and see what Sam reveals, if anything. Like I said, maybe I'm reading too much into this.

“…Donnie and I are dating,” you tell Leo, feeling him go rigid against you when you tell the secret that feels so stupid to keep if it means losing him. “I… I asked him out yesterday, and he said yes. But he wants to keep it quiet for a while, while we figure everything out, so…”

Pain. Pain and agony and suffering. She says this to Leo in no uncertain terms about what she means, whereas with Donnie it could have been taken a different way and apparently WAS. Fuck.

“He… he talked about missing hugs?” Leo echoes, sounding a little broken.

This Whole Thing hurts just as much the second time around. Ouch. Owie.

"I have no idea what’s safe to talk about with you people, so I just assume everything’s off limits until I hear otherwise!”

Again, she's so careful to respect boundaries.

[Leo] He tilts his head when you come inside, grinning at you and patting the ground between his legs as he spreads them and wiggles his feet like he thinks he’s adorable.

BECAUSE HE IS ADORABLE. DAMMIT. THIS IS A DONNIE FIC. I AM A DONNIE GIRL. STOP MAKING ME FALL IN LOVE WITH LEO AS WELL. (/pos of course, ALL of this is positive, I promise)

“Don’t be mean to me, I’m just a little meow meow.”

FUUUUUCK I LOVE LEO SO MUCH STOPPPPPPPPPPPP

“…Don’t tell him,” Leo pleads quietly, making you pause where you were reaching out to grab your laptop. “Tell who what?” “Donnie. That I know. …Don’t tell him.”

Do you think Leo remembers saying this and feels guilty now? Do you think he wonders if you had been given the green light to tell Donnie that Leo knows you two are "dating" that maybe the whole miscommunication thing wouldn't have spiraled and gone on as long?

“Just kidding. You’re so gullible,” [Donnie says]

Just. Just putting this here. For the record. For future reference.

“…Does Leo do this to you?” he whispers, entranced. “…Does he make you have goosebumps, too?” His thumb finds the edge of your nipple through your bra and shirt,

God. Hits different. He's actually fucking yearning here isn't he. Yearning for her and not even realizing he has her?? Again, does he think this is something friends just do? Was he wondering if Leo touches you intimately, as well??

(The kissing is so fucking hot. A wordsmith as always, Jesus CHRIST, Sam. But also reading it with the constant voice in the back of my head saying "he doesn't see them as dating" over and over and over IS SO. I don't have a word for it but it's killing me.)

[Donnie, after you stop kissing] “Sorry. I suppose I did, uh. Get a little over-eager there.”

the silent promise you made to one turtle versus the explicit one you made to another and how they stand at odds with the other.

^So many lines now are hitting me differently. God.

[Donnie talking about Leo sleeping on Vi and therefore making her smell like Leo] “I really don’t—I’m starting think he does it on purpose to irritate me, specifically.”

So if Donnie doesn't see them as together, doesn't see Vi as his... what does he mean here? Does he recognize that he feels possessive but doesn't fully understand why? Or does he really just not like the way Leo smells???

Donnie talking about how he smells that she's aroused, admitting that he is aroused... taking about it so matter-of-factly. He's separating romantic and sexual feelings so completely in a way that Vi doesn't, in a way that the reader wouldn't. (Is that the whole point that I'm missing here? That he DOES separate sexual and romantic relationships so CLEARLY in his mind? And that's why he can yearn for her, think he doesn't have her even while they're fucking and spending so much time together and doing things that couples DO?)

Donnie referring to the Third Law as the reason that he gets to learn how to make her feel good... almost like that's his sole reason or like that's his excuse for doing so...

“…I’m not particularly interested in my brothers smelling you like this,” he mutters

Because it would cause a stir? Because he wants the experiment to continue without outside influence? Because he simply doesn't want them to know his business? Because he knows she would be embarrassed? LET ME IN YOUR HEAD. YOU AND LEO BOTH ARE KILLING ME.

---

Chapter 13

Goddammit I lost my notes for this chapter and had to try and remember what I had already written TWICE because I'm a mobile user who is also an idiot. Anyway.

The beginning of my notes for this chapter was mostly me gushing about how much it made me smile. It's the one where Vi gets sick and goes to the store to get cat food for the neighbor. (Basically - I love Vi, I love the boys, I love the group chat.)

When the neighbor gets mutated, Vi pushes Leo out of the way so that she is the one pounced on instead of Leo. There was no real danger, but she didn't know that when she reacted. It kills me that in her delirious, can barely think straight, actually thinks she's hallucinating state, her instinct is to take the hit for Leo. (Better me than you, you're more important, I can be useful, I'm useful, useful, use me use me use me FUCK)

So many lines hit different with Donnie... she's sick and going to sleep in his room, and them interacting alone here (with my knowledge of chapter 20) makes my chest ache.

She says she missed him -> For some reason, he laughs a little at that. “Is that so? What prompted the thought?”

Her shirt is all sweaty and he tells her to just take it off, but then -> “I’m curious to see if my body temperature will help with your fever.”

They're in his bed, lying together, and she kisses him -> “D-Don’t do that here,” he stutters, sounding a little like it’s a significant effort to tell you. “I don’t want to start something we aren’t—aren’t planning on—”

A little later -> “…I want to…” he trails off in a breathless tone, pressing into your throat a little harder than usual. ... “Wanna what?” you ask, prompting him to shake his head. “It’s nothing. Get some rest. I’ll be here until you fall asleep.”

I'm in so much fucking pain.

Vi goes to the library for books on PTSD to help the fam. She spends time reading and taking notes and just. God. She's such a good friend. (Use me. I need to earn this love. I need to be good and useful.)

Leo has his insomnia. (He has something else, you know, you just know, but until he decides to do his little secret-spilling venture he told you you were due, you’re in the dark on that.)

Is this something we might find out about during their talk on Saturday??? I hope so.

You don’t know anything about Raph, you mourn, underlining his name twice on your notepad in a bit of self-loathing. So much for him being family, you think sourly.

It's hardly her fault, but again she's putting it on herself.

At the end of the chapter, she wakes up to realize that Leo saw the evidence of her reading those books and taking notes and working to make herself more helpful (USEFUL) in her free time. He knows how hard she's trying to help. So you think he feels guilty over that, too, now? Again, all she does is give give give, and even when she does allow herself to take she feels that need to earn it, that need to be worthy of it.

---

Chapter 14

DAKOTA APPEARS. LIGHT OF MY LIFE. DARLING GIRL YOU DESERVE THE WORLD I LOVE YOU.

Yeah there it is! The confrontation with the guy in the park. Raph is so right to be worried because she IS going to get hurt if she keeps this up.

[Raph talking] "you can’t be stupid like that,” he says, making you flinch. 

Time for me to Read Too Much Into Things again. I've noticed, even before chapter 20 when it gets really really bad, she often refers to herself as stupid or uses stupid as an adjective when describing what she's doing. Her flinching when Raph uses that word specifically has me wondering if that word was used against her a lot in the past (by Alopex maybe?) or if she's always had A Thing about thinking she's stupid.

Raph gives you a small crooked smile. “Well, it sure made him mad thinkin’ you was my girl. So maybe you should just start datin’ a mutant real open-like.” 

You give a wet laugh, rubbing at your eyes hard. If only he knew. “Yeah. That… That sounds like something I’d like.” 

Hey what's up I'm CRYING

(Also, once again, every time Vi refers to Donnie as her boyfriend in her head, I suffer)

[Leo talking about Vi having no self-preservation instincts] “Oh yeah? Looks to me like you wouldn’t know fear if it—” he starts, only for his jaw to clamp shut and a stricken look to cross his face.

I know this is him remembering when he scared Vi in her kitchen, but JUST IN CASE their talk on Saturday reveals anything I'm keeping this here for my own future reference.

Not helping the desire is that he’s wearing those fucking sweatpants again. If he were any kind of perceptive, you’d wonder if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing when he put those things on his ass

First of all, SWEATPANTELLO SJSJZBAKXH. Second of all, "if he were any kind of perceptive" has me eating through the drywall.

Oh my god. When Donnie brings up what happened in the park, he just says he made her a new phone and then "There was mud all over the processing board, which, speaking of, I hope you weren’t injured?” I'm getting a little bit of whiplash here. He was so angry over the bruise she got, but with this his reaction is less intense. And I'm remembering after one of the attacks with Dakota that his reaction wasn't as intense as I expected, either. But then with the guy on their aquarium "date" the reaction was WAY more intense. Hm. I almost need to look at those instances side by side once more after I catch up to 20 on this reread.

Also idk why this popped into my head just now, but I'm wondering if something happened between Leo and Donnie in the past. Something more than just the fact that Donnie doesn't let Leo (or the rest of the fam) touch him. There are so many times where Leo like... gives Donnie a blank/weird look or reacts a certain way when Vi talks about Donnie or even riles Donnie up by making Vi smell like him, making little comments about her being pretty or him being her favorite or whatever... a bunch of things that COULD just be Leo being a little shit but could also be something more (something like Leo liking Vi, sure, but I really don't think so??? More and more I wonder if it could be something that's related to an incident in the past between the twins??). God I cannot WAIT for Leo and Vi to talk on Saturday.

Vi says she doesn't talk to her family anymore because they're so anti-mutant and they had a huge falling out. I'm still wondering if there was some kind of abuse she suffered from her family, as well, even if she doesn't recognize it as having been abuse. (Racist family members being cruel to you hits close to home, I'm almost certainly projecting.)

“A mutant? You?” Donnie gapes, looking shocked. “You dated a mutant?” 

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “How are you surprised by this?” 

YEP. SAM IS RIGHT. HITS FUCKING DIFFERENT. GOD.

You haven’t thought about Alopex in years; it’s odd, now, how you finally feel able to do so without pain.

Ooooh boy. I CANNOT WAIT to find out more about the past relationship with Alopex. And if I recall correctly Sam has said Alopex will make an appearance and I am SO EXCITED.

[Vi talking] "I have a family again, and I have you. That’s all I need.” 

Donnie frowns, but whatever machinations are in his head are tabled when instead he just sighs

She makes that distinction here between the fam and Donnie. Specifically says "I have you" and he frowns. During my first read I thought he was frowning at the whole estranged family/Alopex breakup thing. Now I'm wondering what he thought about that comment "I have you."

Engage alarm 16-44-SD - I wonder what the significance of the numbers and letters are. Do you think we'll find out?

[Vi asks Donnie to cuddle and they're getting situated on the cot] “What are your goals for this evening?” he asks, using his hand to glide along your jaw, cupping your nape to turn your face to his. 

“With you?” you ask to clarify, and when he nods, you hum. “Don’t really have any. Just want to feel good with you.” 

Donnie studies you for a moment

Fuck. FUCK. "What are your goals" I'm pacing like a madman. WHAT IS HE THINKING WHEN HE STUDIES HER AFTER HER RESPONSE. FUCK.

“…Actually, I changed my mind. I wanna kiss you again.” 

Donnie’s smirk is a little lazy. “That was quick. I was expecting to have to work on you a bit longer for that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m easy for you. Sue me,” you tell him ... “That you are,” he agrees ... “…Want to feel good,” he murmurs against your mouth, repeating your request of him like he’s contemplating it, still. When you nod, he dips down, his second kiss a bit more

This Whole fucking interaction. My heart is shredded. Him thinking about her saying she wants to feel good, taking that as her saying the 'goal' of today's 'session' is that and then having her come using his thigh so they can achieve that 'session goal' and collect data.

[Asking if she's sure he has to touch somewhere first before she'll touch him there] “Though I suppose it’s fine. Just more data. And I’m hardly opposed to making you feel good first.”

JUST MORE DATA he says

[Donnie tells you to take off the clothes Leo lent you] Vi - “Donnie, I’m not wearing anything under this.” 

“…Okay?” he says, looking at you like he doesn’t understand the problem.

This is SO. I JUST. FUCK. Sex and nude intimacy is all part of the project. Why WOULD it be a big deal? They agreed that the experiment would include kissing, petting, sex, etc. There's no feelings involved, it's just necessary for the session, for the data. I'm Unwell.

(The sexy stuff is, once again, SO HOT but SO PAINFUL to read)

[After she comes using his thigh] “Oh, yeah. I’m gonna remember that for a long, long time. Until you one up yourself, of course.” 

“A good scientist is always seeking to extract better results from his subject matter,” Donnie agrees. 

SUBJECT MATTER. I'M LAYING DOWN ON THE TRAIN TRACKS. AND THEN IN HER MIND SHE REFERS TO HIM ONCE AGAIN AS HER BOYFRIEND. WHERE IS THAT GODDAMN TRAIN. I'M WAITING.

I wonder if Sam was writing this and smirking evilly the entire fucking time. Evil. EVIL. EVIL EVIL EVIL EVIL E-

---

Chapter 15

SINCLAIR'S NAME IS JUNE. FUCK I FORGOT LMAO I'm just as bad as Vi

Vi making cookies again for the 4th of July party. Then in the shower, talking to Leo about it.

“I was thinking I’d make enough cookies for you guys to have left over, since I know you like ‘em a lot. Plus I feel like I kind of owe Raph for the whole, uh, making him fish me out of the pond thing.” 

Leo doesn’t answer, you think, though you might have missed it as you duck your head under the water to get rid of the shampoo.

I was so distracted by blurple symphony au thoughts the first time I read this, but now I'm just thinking about how she worded that.

“I was thinking I’d bring him [Raph] by some bread later, too. I know we kind of worked it all out, but I’d feel better if I really had a good apology. He was pretty upset. And Donnie, too. I need to make him something. Not that he, uh, did anything. But the thought was there, I guess."

Once again, she feels the need to DO something for others. As an apology, as appreciation. Thoughtful to the point of making me worry.

(Also, I wonder if the talk with Leo on Saturday will shed light on what he was doing/thinking here while she was showering)

“Glad to be of service,” you laugh

YEAH. YOU ALWAYS ARE.

[Vi says she'll try to get Donnie to come to the party] Casey stares at you with eyes that see a little too far into your soul for your liking, but then he pulls them back and laughs like he didn’t just sear your bones. “Well, if anyone could, I bet it’d be you.”

:) pain

“He’s got me on security protocol 27-L-Alpha, but family’s allowed through on that one, so you can go ahead in,” Shelldon says

Again, I wonder about the significance of the numbers and letters. Also, FAMILY IS ALLOWED THROUGH. So Donnie sees her as family? I need to be inside his head.

She gets him to go to the party and he says she'll owe him. Is that the only reason he agrees? Because then she owes him something? Is he just hungry? Is he soft for her without realizing?

When the yokai is flirting with Vi at the party, WHAT is Donnie thinking? I must know. Vi looks at Donnie and thinks that he's 'too traumatized, probably by those fucking brain aliens, to fish you out.' If Donnie thought they were dating, would he have stepped in?

Leo hooks his head onto your shoulder, nuzzling his beak into your throat and humming like he does when it’s just the two of you. ... his fingers fluttering on your stomach as his eyes cut off to the side. He has a sharp look to his features that you’re a bit too drunk to dissect, so you just ignore it. 

I'm squinting so hard at this. This is at the party in front of everyone, but it's GOTTA be another attempt at riling Donnie up, right? UGH

(GOD. DONNIE PULLING YOU INTO HIS ROOM. STICKING HIS FINGERS INTO YOUR MOUTH. GOD. FUCK. JESUS HOLY HELL I'M ON FIRE.)

“Gonna kill him,” Donnie growls against your skin

Is he talking about Leo? WHY DOES IT BOTHER YOU SO MUCH, HUH DONNIE? Seriously, did something fucking happen between him and Leo in the past that's related to all this? Or is this just Donnie being jealous and possessive over Vi despite them just being "partners" for the project??

He grabs your chin, holding your face to his, and you open your damp eyes to see that he’s staring at you, cataloging your every move. 

Data collection. I know I'm repeating myself here, but this is so so painful to read.

Pulling away, Donnie groans, his forehead finding your shoulder. “Fuck. I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry,” he says, causing you to laugh. You sink your fingers into his nape, stroking long lines against worried flesh. 

“How are you apologizing right now? That was incredible,” you promise. 

“It—It was outside the bounds of our agreement. We both stated that my lab was the only place where we’d—” he starts

:( that's all I can say. Just. :(

"I’m going to go to my lab and make sure this obnoxious music didn’t ruin anything.” 

OH MY GOD. THE RECORDINGS. HIM GOING TO THE LAB TO REVIEW THE DATA FOR THE PROJECT. HOW DID I COMPLETELY SKIP OVER THIS LINE THE FIRST TIME.

Vi asks for one last kiss and then -> “…You’re getting good at that,” you murmur against his mouth when he pulls away, opening your eyes to see him staring at you with lustrous eyes. 

“Third Law,” he says

Third Law. Something I want (your help with this project) for something you want (to feel good). Fuck. FUCK.

You turn your head, seeing that he has something to say on the tip of his tongue, but he shakes it off, looking off to the side. 

“…Text me when you get home,” he says instead, making you smile and nod. 

WHAT WAS HE GOING TO SAY. WILL WE EVER FIND OUT? I'M FERAL.

Vi tells Mikey she and Donnie are dating. Once again it's explicit when she tells others but not when she's with Donnie. Kill me. Kill me.

Again, Vi worrying so much about the boys. Wishing she could help more. Sigh.

“…Yeah. Pretty,” he [Leo] agrees, voice quiet. ... you feel a beak nuzzle gently into your hair, inhaling softly to find your scent, before he goes carefully, painfully still; and just before you finally drift off to sleep on his shoulder, you imagine, you think, the sound of creaking wood beneath a tight, gripping fist. 

Once again the first time I read this as Leo maybe liking Vi or being upset that Donnie touches her when he hasn't been able to touch his brother in so long, but... Does Leo... does Leo know that Donnie doesn't see their partnership as romantic? Does he KNOW?? Is he letting this go on because it's helping Donnie and he wants his brother to get better???? HANG ON. HANG ON. IT BETTER NOT BE. IT BETTER FUCKING NOT. PLEASE TELL ME I'M WRONG. Is this Leo realizing that the partnership has become sexual and that this is so much worse for Vi than he thought? MY HEART IS BEATING OUT OF MY CHEST. (I'm wrong. I have to be wrong. I have to be reading too much into it, right? Please tell me I'm wrong I'm on the verge of tears.)

---

Chapter 16

Sinclair recovers quickly, waving her hand. “Yo. Introduce us to the cutie?” 

“C-Cutie?” Raph repeats, flustering quickly.

Sinclair (June?) has a girlfriend I know but this little interaction makes me wish Raph could get someone, you know? I wish all the boys could get someone (if they want someone, that is). I want them all to be happy so badly :(

Also Sinclair's girlfriend is a mutant. Are we gonna meet her?

You dig your nails into your biceps hard. 

I worry. I fucking WORRY.

First mention of Scheherazade - oh my god. Forever sobbing.

Leo hasn't texted you today.

DOES HE FEEL GUILTY?

Sinclair calling Vi her friend :') getting her number :') I love her

Vi is so anxious over the thought of Leo being upset with her. And then there's a line when she goes to the lair to see him - hoping you’re not being too overbearing - that has me once again wondering if she had past experiences where someone got upset and reacted badly and blamed her, or maybe if she just internalized the bad reaction as her fault and now she's always scrambling to soothe and fix? Thinking of how toxic relationships can have that affect on people, you know?

He isn’t Alopex, you remind yourself. It’s cruel to impose upon him the damaged expectations from the last relationship you’d had. Cruel to yourself, seeing darkness where there isn’t any to be found. You’re letting old insecurities seep in, you think, feeling your eyes burn a little.

Yeah, this. I wonder if we'll find out about the exact details of everything that happened? I think we will, and I'm excited.

[Leo talking] “I’ve just been… tired. Thinking about things. About what I want.” 

Tilting your head, you ask. “…What you want?” 

Leo nods, bringing your hand to his mouth to brush a kiss to your knuckles, staring at them as he brings your hand to his lap. “I’m. I’m still thinking about it. If I promise to tell you, can you give me time?” 

If I'm right. And I pray that I'm wrong. But. If I'm right. He's thinking about what's more important to him, about what he wants more - truly being a good friend to you vs. using you to help Donnie with his touch thing even though he knows what's really going on, even though he knows you think something else is happening when it's not. (If I'm right... he's using her. He's using her, after seeing how lonely she was, how willing she is to help, how desperate she is to be useful, manipulating that, taking advantage of that. Please God let me be wrong.)

Upstairs, you find Donnie sitting in front of his wall of computer screens, each plastered with an ocean of diagrams and spreadsheets. Deep in thought ... “Oh, good. I was just thinking about you,” he says

He's looking at the spreadsheets for the project. Of course he'd be thinking of her. Sobbing. Screaming. I hate myself.

[Donnie smells Leo on Vi] "Really pisses me off,” he grumbles

Again, why does it make him mad that Vi smells like Leo?

“Hm. I promised you a lesson on my anatomy. Considering I explored your genitalia, unintentional though the moment was, that does, as per our arrangement, clear you to touch mine.”

Arrangement. ARRANGEMENT. And the clinical discussion, of course. Naturally. No feelings, just a project, all part of the experiment.

“Experiential learning. Excellent. I knew you were the one.” 

The one. The one to choose as his partner on the project. Goddammit.

(God. The smut. It's so hot. I'm swimming in lava.)

“All right. Take off your pants and lie down. My turn.” 

Startled, you just blink at him for a moment. “W-What?” 

“Third Law. And I want to taste you. See if it’s different from mine. I’m very curious about the tactile nature, since it was quite pleasant on my fingers. Plus, you didn’t come. I’m not a barbarian. Now, chop chop.” 

Third Law. You did this so now I do that. It's a transaction. And he's curious about the taste and feel compared to his own. Data data data.

“…Very, very pleasant,” he murmurs to himself more than to you, 

Data. Notes. For his own future reference. Fuck.

“Only the best for my favorite turtle,” you promise, laughing and pulling away, spinning in place with your arms spread wide. “Now. Shall we work on the Turtolin while waiting for the smell of sex to dissipate? I’d rather not scar poor Leo if I can help it.”

Donnie looks like he’s contemplating something hard, but he pushes it away and nods. 

What is he thinking here? Does it have anything to do with Leo? Or the favorite turtle line?? UGH

[Vi sends Donnie a pic of her in the bath with the bath bomb he gave her and he calls] “Good girl,” he says easily, making your skin burn hot. “Now, I’m going to put you on speaker and listen as you make yourself come.”

Jaw dropping, you stutter, “R-Right now?”

Donnie hums. “Then send me another. One before. One after.”

You hear the soft click of him putting his phone down, and the familiar sound of him fiddling with his tech. ... “I’m waiting,” you hear him say.

This is SO PAINFUL now. FUCK.

---

Chapter 17

(My notes after this point include knowledge of chapter 22 aka the chapter that made me physically ill)

You find him [Donnie], as you expect, pouring over some spreadsheets. 

The spreadsheets again :(

[Vi talking to Raph and Mikey about Donnie] "You wouldn’t expect it. But he’s—he’s so kind. Always thinking about how he can help others, always looking to make their lives easier. It’s—It’s really admirable. I respect him a lot.”

Vi you're literally describing yourself.

“You had a problem. I solved it,” he says, like it’s that simple. And you suppose, in a way, it is. He just… doesn’t see it as his love language, even though it so, so clearly is. 

I feel like this is a nod towards Donnie actually being in love with Vi but not realizing it.

So. Leo shows up during turtle time.

“Actually, perfect timing,” Leo says, coming up to you and pulling you into a hug. “I have a present for you.” ... “Yep. C’mon, I’ll portal you back to your place so I can give it to you,” he says, making you look at Donnie, concerned he’s about to crack a tooth.

Even though we know he's not doing these things to be manipulative anymore (assuming we can actually trust that he was being honest about when he 'stopped completely'), it's still tainted, especially since it's in front of Donnie. The casual physical touches, calling her "hermosa." Not only am I reading this and feeling so fucking betrayed, but I'm ALSO sad because he's started feeling guilty and really truly seeing her as his best friend now (if, again, we believe his claims in 22), and the torment he must be going through, despite it being so, so deserved, makes me sad. Actually, sad isn't the right word for it, but the right word escapes me. Whatever it is that I'm feeling about this is gaping and tender and intense.

“The truth,” he says, taking the picture from you and putting it on the coffee table. “About us. About everything.” 

Not about everything, Leo. Not yet. (I think the word I'm looking for is agony. I'm not just sad. I'm in agony.)

[Vi talking to Leo] "So I just tucked it into one of those Leo will explain this someday pile.”

He stares at you for a second, then gets a melancholic smile on his face. “Yeah. That pile’s probably a lot bigger than it should be. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I told you before. It’s okay if you’re not ready to spill your guts,” you remind him. 

“That was true then. But now, you’re—” he stops himself, looking at you hard, his eyes unmoored on your face. “…It’s different. Now.” 

OOF. FUCKING. FUCK.

[Leo talking about the invasion] "Then one day, I—I fucked up really bad. I didn’t even know how bad, but I—” His voice chokes, grip on you going tight. He looks at you, eyes a little wild, and you nod. 

THIS IS A PARALLEL TO HIM FUCKING UP WITH VI. NOT EVEN KNOWING HOW BAD HE FUCKED UP UNTIL AFTER THE FACT.

And every time Vi responds so fucking kindly to something Leo says or does... at this point he's truly wracked with guilt. Every kind thing she does is another reminder of how badly he fucked up, another twist of the knife that he unknowingly lodged between his own ribs. For example: Leo stares, soaking you up like you’re water and he’s cracked earth; then, taking in a haggard breath, he continues.

And then Leo asks Vi to help Casey like she helped him and his brothers. And even here, when he's being genuine, that ask is tainted, tainted, tainted by his history of using her for his own desires.

“Thanks,” he says, true and honest in a manner that oh, this entire time, you haven’t really seen. 

God. GOD.

Vi asking Donnie about the aquarium... she doesn't use the word date. I wonder, if she did, would he have locked

There are going to be a lot of moments like that in your near future, you’re guessing, taking a long sip of water and staring at your reflection in the blank screen of the television. Little pieces you’ve seen, little hints of darkness you’re going to understand now.

Vi is referring to the fact that she knows about Casey being from the future and stuff, but this is mirroring what I'm doing. Finding little hints of darkness in Leo on my reread. God. Kill me.

---

Chapter 18

Vi gushing about Donnie to Sinclair :( and this line specifically -> "He just… gives and gives and gives.” THAT'S YOU, VI. YOU'RE SO ALIKE.

"He’s—brutally honest, but in a way that makes it impossible to doubt any compliment he gives."

Meanwhile LEO-

(I can barely focus. My heart aches so much. I keep having to reread the same paragraph over and over because I keep thinking about Leo. I really do feel so goddamn betrayed. How can Vi go on? How is she going to fucking... I've said it already but if it were me I would spiral really really bad. I was already worried about her before chapter 22. And now... I don't think Sam would do what I'm thinking of because surely there would be tags indicating that already due to their triggering nature, but I just know if it were me... I won't say it.)

Do you think, now that Donnie knows about the miscommunication, he'll go back and review their texts and his recordings to search for hints that he might've missed? Do you think he'll find something and think 'stupid, stupid, you should've seen it then, it was right there all along' like Vi did when she first realized?

I'm realizing, once again, how often Vi uses the adjective "stupid" to describe so many of her thoughts and actions. And I'm wondering, once again, how far back that habit runs. Whether it's always been there or if it started when she was with Alopex.

Oh man... when Vi gets ready for the aquarium... no. She doesn't think "I look nice" or anything. When she sees Donnie, she tells him he looks nice. Like a model, even. And he doesn't say anything about how she looks. I remember being a bit disappointed the first time I read and just assuming that he was too embarrassed or shy or something to comment on how she looked, but no. I'm a fool.

The alligators are so fucking cute, which he finds absolutely absurd. 

“I like their faces, I dunno,” you say with a shrug. “Look at those little snouts! Don’t you just wanna… smooch one?” 

“No, I can definitely say that I do not,” Donnie drones. “And I’m pretty concerned that you do.” 

“I mean, soft shelled turtles are pretty aggressive biters too, right?” you point out, tilting your head and looking at him a little coyly. “Seems to me you don’t mind me kissing one of those all the time.” 

Huffing, Donnie turns his face with a flustered scowl. “Th-That’s different!”

Just putting this section here. Just pointing out how he responds. I'm just casually in agony, right now.

[Vi talking after Donnie asks for permission to kiss her outside of the lab] "Okay. Well. Consider this my blank check of consent to any and all kissing. Inside the lab, outside of it, no matter how many people are around.”

“Hm. Well. Too many people will probably ruin the results. But I’ll take it under consideration,” he says. 

Another comment that I saw as referring to the experiment, yes, but that I also thought was him flirting. Me putting meaning into his words that isn't there. Fuck.

his mouth claiming you like you aren’t already all his

Because she's not. She not his. Kill me.

When they run into the old standmate, Donnie gets so fucking mad that the guy insulted Vi. Another thing that I interpreted as romantic that wasn't.

“I’m—not particularly sure how to do this [have sex] with our current arrangement,” he says breathlessly

Damn. Even the first time they have sex, he tried checking in, tried to honor the rule she set, referred to it as their "arrangement" and everything... he truly did nothing wrong. What a massive misunderstanding. This continues to blow my mind. Damn.

She calls him cute once again, and he doesn't say anything like that back.

(The sex is so FUCKING HOT GOOD GOD)

He asks her to stay. And she does. And she's realizing she's in love with him. And I'm so, so sad.

---

Chapter 19

[Vi talking to Casey about Leo] "He’s a really good friend. I feel lucky to know him,” you tell him

Every single line where Leo is referred to as her friend has the rage flaring in my chest again.

Oh my god. I've been interested in how the brothers are going to react if/when they find out what Leo admitted (especially Donnie, obviously), but... what is CASEY going to think? He admires Leo so much. Oh my god. Oh my GOD.

man hadn’t that morning sex the other day been something else? Let’s try it again and see if we can replicate it. So your Wednesday is even lazier than usual with just the one lesson after a long morning of Donnie seemingly testing just how well sound-proofed his lab is, or maybe how loud he can get you to whine his name when you come, you’re not really sure which.

Replicate. Test. Kill me kill me kill me

The first shot cracks through the air and makes your ears ring. Without thinking, you move. Your hands clutch Dakota’s shirt, throwing her off the stage to the pit where the gunman won’t have a clear view. A second shot goes off. Before she hits the floor, you’re moving, tackling the other three to the floor underneath you. A third shot.

Again, her instincts are to protect others first.

you see Raph pinning the guy to the floor, a look on his face like you’ve never seen before. 

Actually, you realize; no. You have seen it. Once. In your kitchen. From Leonardo to you. 

Rage.

FUCK. KILL ME.

(DAKOTA. MY FUCKING HEART. WHY DO I FEEL LIKE I'LL HAVE TO GO BACK AND REREAD ALL THE DAKOTA PARTS AT SOME POINT WHEN WHATEVER SAM HAS PLANNED FOR HER HAPPENS/IS REVEALED.)

Even after almost being shot she wants to rehearse. Be productive. Sigh.

You’re a little surprised to feel that your hands feel jittery at the ends of your arms, a bit like you have too much energy inside still. Your hold on your bow is a little wonky, too.

WHAT YOU JUST EXPERIENCED WAS TRAUMATIZING. WHY ARE YOU SURPRISED. WHY DO YOU NOT SEE- HOW ARE YOU SO- Sorry I'm just. So protective of her. So frustrated that she doesn't care about herself like she should. She's in shock, huh? I'm being too harsh. I'm just so fucking angry because of how GOOD she is to others and how Leo fucking USED that. I can't fucking take it.

She's shaken up after being shot at... on the subway, looking forward to going to the lair -> Gazing past your reflection in the subway window, you watch the lights flash past in little warm blurs, and seek comfort in the knowledge that soon you’ll be with people who love you.

People who love you. Like Leo and Donnie. Pain pain pain. And when she finds Leo sleeping in his room, her softness for him, her fondness and affection... It hurts. It hurts.

She finds Donnie in his lab. I remember thinking it was weird he didn't react more strongly to the fact that she was literally shot at. He just says “I heard you had a fun afternoon,” and that's it. Honestly it still surprises me. I feel like we have seen him be protective over her for lesser incidents... remember the bruise? Remember the standmate? Why, I wonder, did he not react more strongly here? Is it because she wasn't actually shot?

He eases the tension headache she didn't even realize she had. (Vi, once again not realizing how affected she was. This mirrors her not realizing she was sick before, too.)

Turning your head when he slowly releases you, you see an ocean of spreadsheets in front of you that instantly has you looking away in disinterest before you can read a single word. 

I hate myself so much. What would she have seen, what would she have realized, if she looked a little bit closer?

“…No, I just… smelled you,” Leo says blankly, looking between you and where Donnie’s got his arms wrapped around you, and you think—oh. He’s known this whole time, of course, that Donnie touches you; but this is maybe the first time he’s seen it. “You’re… really touching her.”

“I was under the impression you knew about it,” Donnie says, dropping his chin on your shoulder and raising a brow ridge at his twin.

“…I did,” Leo agrees, though his face is still as stone. His eyes focus on where Donnie’s got his arms wrapped around your middle, and for some reason, the intensity of it makes you want to wiggle away and get out of Donnie’s grasp. ... Leo, eyes focused on where Donnie’s beak is tucked into your throat ... “I like it,” Leo says, staring at Donnie.

God. Leo. Still wrestling with his anger and jealousy, trying to be happy about it, but still struggling so much.

The Scheherazade story kind of mimics Leo and Vi. Scheherazade won the kings love over time, while Vi won Leo's true affection and friendship over time. Hm.

[Vi goes] to stand out of Donnie’s lap, only to turn to him and raise an eyebrow when he petulantly keeps you pinned to his plastron, his eyes dark and pouty on his twin. “…Donnie.” ... You bat your eyelashes cutely at Leo, who gets a smug look on his face as he stretches out a hand to the side. His crescents glow prettily, and with a curl of his fingers, he has a sword in his hand to cut a portal. “One ride on the turtle express for mi tesorito.” 

“Turtle ex—?!” Donnie chokes, his fingers going tight in your flesh, his teeth pulling into a snarl. It hurts a little, and you’re kind of mortified when the squeak you make is maybe a little more sensual than it probably should be. Feeling your cheeks flare hot, you press your palms to Donnie’s shoulders, giving him a meaningful look.

“I can come back tomorrow,” you say with gritted teeth, increasingly miffed when he just shoots a glum look to his twin.

Once again, even if Leo is being genuine, this is all tainted, and it fucking hurts to read every interaction they have, especially in front of Donnie. But I also noticed another layer here. Vi is trying to behave as though she and Donnie aren't dating because Leo is there and as far as Donnie is aware (in her mind) Leo knows they touch but doesn't know they're together. Meanwhile things that seem romantic to her are NOT romantic to Donnie, so he's being clingy and she is a little annoyed/confused, because she's thinking 'doesn't Donnie know this is suspicious??' But NO. HE DOESN'T KNOW THAT. AT ALL.

“Fine, fine,” he [Donnie] says petulantly, removing his arms from your waist. 

“Good boy,” Leo says with a widening smirk, squawking when you reach out and flick his beak. 

“And you. I don’t know what your game is, but stop terrorizing him,” you tell him, watching as he rubs his palm over the offended flesh. 

“Me? Terrorizing Donatello?”

“Leonardo.”

This is after Leo supposedly 'stopped completely' and yet.

“He [Casey] has a lot of secrets he’s keeping,” Leo says, softening. “They’re a heavy load. I don’t know how he does it.”

Secrets can be a heavy load, huh Leo? You FUCKING-

Leo sighs, grabbing his katana and cutting another portal back to the lair. Before he leaves, however, he beckons you close. Reluctantly, feeling a bit embarrassed and hoping your lingering arousal isn’t too obvious, you go; only to blink when he reaches out a hand and grabs your chin, bringing your face close to his as his eyes drop to your mouth. 

“…Yep. Thought so. Doesn’t take much to get you going, huh,” he says knowingly

Get your fucking hands off of her and shut your goddamn mouth. I'm so angry. I'm so fucking angry. I've never been this angry in my life. Yes he feels bad. Yes he's suffering now, yes he's going to get consequences that fucking hurt him. But I don't even fucking care right now because I'm so, so angry. What is everyone else going to say? Will Leo even tell them?? I don't know if Vi would tell the fam what Leo did, because she doesn't like causing conflict. But someone needs to tell them. God. What is Donnie going to do, knowing that she's already distraught because of their miscommunication?

Vi talking to Casey, getting him to open up about the future. Taking responsibility for helping him. Even though it's upsetting. Yes, that's what real, good friends do, but it's just another example of her giving, giving, giving. How deeply she cares, how sincerely she loves those in her life, how she would willingly burn herself up for the people she loves to keep them warm. And the fact that she's taking on this burden after LEO had asked her to...

(The lavender mask thing hurts just as much the second time. Ouch.)

[Casey talking] “Apparently, you always were able to get him to do things. I remember Master Leonardo making a comment about it once when he was trying to get Uncle Tello to do something. You’d do it for her, or something.”

You wince. That couldn’t have gone over well.

I can only imagine future Leo saying that with bitterness. Was there jealousy in the other timeline, too? It's easy to imagine since we know what Leo is capable of, now. Easy to imagine a future Leo, run down and exhausted and bearing so much responsibility for the resistance and guilt over the apocalypse, letting it all build and build and build, letting it get to him after Vi's death, even if he loved her too, even if he was grieving too, and being so angry over Donnie refusing to do something, and losing his cool. 'You'd do it for her. Why won't you do it for me?'

I wonder how Donnie would have reacted if Vi HAD told him about what happened with future them. About the lavender mask.

[Vi's bath water] It’s hot when you get in; too hot, maybe. But the burn feels a little good. Tethers you into place where otherwise you worry you’d drift away to a future that isn’t yours. 

See, again, this worries me. Using pain as a grounding technique, almost. This is pretty innocent, but it hints at the POTENTIAL for going further with this kind of stuff. I do nothing but seethe and worry.

---

Chapter 20

Finally made it all the way here. Sigh. Let's read.

you find yourself drifting off at random moments, haunted by memories that aren’t even yours ... for some reason, you spend most of Friday night sobbing into your pillow ... you spend the morning in your bed, curled around your pillow and staring numbly at the wall ... you’re avoiding Donnie

Vi takes the knowledge Casey gave her so hard. Evidence, once again, of how deeply she cares, how strongly she loves, but I can't help but remember that LEO asked her to help Casey. And she honestly probably would've ended up doing it anyway at some point, even if Leo didn't explicitly ask her to, because that's just how she is and Casey is part of the family and she wants to help... but I can't help pairing her emotional turmoil with the fact that LEO asked her to take that on.

“Donnie said you wasn’t feelin’ good, but you look like shit,” he says, causing you to shoot him a wry smile.

“Thanks, Raph. I feel so beautiful now.” 

Raph shoots you a meaningful look. “I think you ‘nd I both know I ain’t the one you wanna hear that from.” 

...

“Raph ain’t mad. I’ve been Donnie’s brother for a long, long time. I know he can be a dumb dumb, sometimes.”

Everyone (I think) sees that Donnie loves her EXCEPT Donnie. Raph says he saw Donnie grab Vi at the party... do you think, when Raph finds out about the miscommunication, he might realize that Donnie doesn't understand his feelings and try to help him figure it out?

💜🐢 (6:16 p.m.)

Raph said you looked unwell today. Do I need to send Leo over to bring you to the lair tonight?

A tempting offer that makes you bite your lower lip. You turn on the camera on your phone to check your face and see the bags under your eyes, the clear exhaustion, and something else that makes you just look… sad.

sent (6:17 p.m.)

no, but thank you for offering! it’s really sweet of you.

I'm begging you to accept some comfort. I'm begging. She so easily brushes him off so she can hide how she's feeling. Please, man, she needs to be loved.

[Vi talking] "Thanks, Casey. You’re the best, and I owe you.” 

“Nah. People always look after each other,” Casey says easily, and you suppose that coming from an apocalypse-torn world forces that outlook on you pretty bone-deep. 

She's right, but also... I'm having trouble articulating my thoughts about this. Something about her always feeling like she OWES people for the things they do for her. Like she has to earn their kindness, always pay it back, nothing comes for free, not for you... she doesn't have that mentality regarding anyone else. Like, she doesn't expect others to earn her kindness, she doesn't expect any kind of payback or anything when she does something kind or helpful - that mindset only applies when she's the one getting something. It has me wondering, again, about the details of her past. Alopex, yes, but also with her family. Was it pounded into her head that she isn't enough, that she isn't worthy of kindness and help unless she does something useful or tangible in return? Or is this, once again, me reading too much into things and possibly projecting?

Mikey, we’re your brothers. It would make sense for us to go.

It just occurred to me that Donnie uses italics in the group chat. You can't do that in regular text chains, right? Is this like a discord-type situation? Or is it because they're all using phones (most likely) made by Donnie and he somehow added that feature? (This is so not important, I know, I know, but I'm curious okay?)

Every single use of tesorito and hermosa stabs me directly in the heart.

“You look like shit,” you hear a familiar voice call, and you look up to see Leo sitting in a fire escape, legs hanging and his arms resting against the metal. Elegantly, he drops to the asphalt, walking up to you and taking your chin in his hands, tilting your face for his examination. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you agree, causing him to grin. “Thanks for this, by the way. I really appreciate it.”

“You don’t ask for much. And even if you did, I like showing off for pretty girls,” he flairs. 

Fury. Even now, when he's supposedly being genuine with her, I'm so angry. He even says she doesn't ask for much. He knows how much she gives, how little she takes. How much she cares. The work she puts in for others. You know the (Did you try?) that Vi has in 21? I wonder... ever since he started to really think about 'what he wants' did he have similar thoughts? A constant (Is this worth it? Is this the person you want to be? Now that you see her heart, her soul, are you really okay with being this kind of person?) - or even, as we get further and further into the fic, something like (How could you? How could you? How could you?)

“Best friend ever,” you compliment

Does he feel guilty when she says stuff like this, now? (How could you?)

Oh I forgot that Vi told Leo what Casey revealed to her about the future. Again, does Leo feel guilty? Seeing that Vi was so affected by that knowledge? Knowing that he asked her to talk to Casey, so it's kind of because of him? "I haven’t felt right in days" she says.

"I hate secrets" [Vi says] ... “…Can I ask you something?” he says after a moment of studying your face. It’s a curiously serious expression ... “Why Donnie?” ... "You’re beautiful. Funny. Have a good job. Easy to like. You could have most anyone you want. Any mutant would kill to have someone like you as a partner. So. Why Donnie?” ... It feels, a little, like that day he’d frightened you. A softer, friendlier version of it.

Yeah. Because it is. Leo doesn't hate her anymore, and she picks up on the difference even though she doesn't understand why.

[Vi talking about Donnie] he’s got this—compulsion, almost. To take care of people. He works on his tech so hard so he can be useful. He’s always texting me about not staying up too late. Getting enough sleep. Did I eat lunch. Don’t overwork myself. Take a break. He even got me to take a few days off, just to relax, and I’ve never done that before. Even though he never turns those thoughts in on himself

HE'S JUST LIKE YOU. SCREAMING THIS FROM THE ROOFTOPS. RATTLING HER. SO MANY THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT DONNIE APPLY TO YOU AS WELL.

“Most of all, he’s honest,” you keep going, tangling your fingers together, staring down at the way they knot at your waist. “If he says something, I can take it at face value. There’s no hidden meaning. Nothing deeper. If he says something feels good, I know it feels good. If he says he likes something, he likes it. If he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it. If he asks for something, I don’t need to ask if he’s sure. He asks, so he’s sure. It—It’s a breath of fresh air. If I want to know what he’s thinking, really thinking, all I have to do is ask." ... I like him. All of him. Even if I’d never been able to touch him. It would have been him.”

Leo’s still as stone for a few moments longer, looking at you like he’s trying to decide if he wants to say something

Yeah. I can definitely see how this would make Leo really struggle to keep it a secret.

He portals you to just outside Donnie’s lab, and with another flash of blue, he’s gone.

The difference here, with him not even going in with her to see Donnie. Him just portaling her to the entrance and then going off... I can just imagine him spending a long time in his room thinking. Thinking thinking thinking about what he should do, after her speech.

Hearing your footsteps, Donnie turns his head, doing a double-take when he sees you, standing out of his chair and coming to stand in front of you with an anxious energy that makes you feel guilty all over again. 

“You’re here,” he says, and you nod, dropping your bag to the floor and leaning into him. Instantly his arms wrap around you, tight enough to crush the air out of you. 

Come ON. HE LOVES HER. HE NEEDS HER. COME ON.

What are you supposed to do? Sob into his arms about how you’d avoided something terrible? Him? The man who couldn’t even touch his family for years and years and years because of the awful things he’s gone through? The man who goes out onto the streets and keeps people like you safe? Why do you get to cry, and he doesn’t?

Her line of thinking here - that 'my issues aren't as serious, they don't matter, I shouldn't seek comfort, especially not from someone who does so much already' - just. No, Vi. I almost wish she would've told Donnie what she was thinking. Someone needs to help her.

(The sex is so fucking hot. I say that every time but only because it's true every time.)

He’s saying something; his mouth is moving but you’re too fuzzy to think, too lost to hear. 

God. I wonder what he said, here.

Every time she says something or thinks something about how beautiful he is, it reminds me that he hasn't said she is beautiful even once.

“I was hoping to get my mouth on your breasts again. You always make interesting noises when I do.” 

So clinical :( and then more and more until she realizes. I'm not going to put the whole thing, but God. God. It's so painful... acoustics, data, sensors, recordings, sessions, partner, spreadsheets...

“The differential in touch inhibition,” he says shortly, like you’re the one not making sense. “I’m actually quite pleased with our progress. I was listening to one of the recordings the other day, and—”

...

“I record everything,” he says, smiling proudly.

...

"This whole time. Have you just been… experimenting with your touch thing?”

Donnie tilts his head. “What else would we be doing?

God, it kills me that he just. Doesn't know. Doesn't understand. And it's not his fault even a little bit. How would he have known otherwise? Honestly? In my reread I didn't find anything he did wrong with the information he thought he had. Unless you count the 4th party, but even then it would be him not following the experiment protocol. It's still not him being malicious in any way (that I know of).

Sheets that smell like a stupid, stupid girl who put her own wishes into someone else’s words yet again.

That's another reference to Alopex, right? Cannot wait to find out more about that relationship.

If Donnie says anything, you don’t hear it.

I wonder if he said anything here. Was he still talking to her, trying to figure out what was wrong? Or watching her in confused, shocked silence? I don't know which is worse.

(It's so painful. It's so fucking painful to read her reaction.)

Tucking your knees to your chest, you sit under the water’s foray, letting it wash over you. On and on and on the little drops hit your skin. They hurt from their fire. On and on and on and on. They hurt from their ice. On and on and on and on. 

Again. Letting herself be hurt. I'm worried.

Then Leo. Covering her with a blanket and holding her. (Does he feel guilty? How could you?)

You pathetic thing, you think derisively, loathing the person you’d become once again.

Another nod to something like this happening with Alopex. Also, the self-hate. I worry worry worry.

Leo is there to see her fall apart. To fully see how the miscommunication with Donnie affected her. I'm worried that, if there's a blowout between him and Donnie, Leo will use his knowledge of how utterly destroyed Vi was against Donnie during the argument.

“What happened?” he asks, because of course he came without knowing, of course he’d seek to solve before he even knew the shape of the problem. Leo, the quiet leader, always watching, always knowing, always helping. So, so grateful for him, you sink your teeth into your lower lip hard and clutch your biceps hard enough to bleed.

"Always helping" and "so grateful for him" make my chest ache. She thinks of him so, so positively and fondly - the betrayal is so deep.

---

What a fucking roller coaster.

My conclusions: Sam is a genius. I'm a goddamn fool. I'm REALLY worried for Vi. I feel so so so bad for Donnie (looking back, I was so confused and angry with him... and it wasn't his fault. It really wasn't and I can't believe I was so blinded by my own biases that I couldn't fathom him not understanding... I owe him such an apology). I'm so goddamn angry with Leo I'm physically sick with it, but my heart aches for pretty much everyone, including Leo. And, once again, Sam is a genius.

[twstinginthewind]

Hi Nette how are you ?

For your ask oc time !!

May I ask for Zayn ?

With the NRC's adult staff team !!

We all need some adult oc and staff content lol !!

Please !

Sorry... For unknow reason I can't use emoticons.....huh

Thank you take care~

Hi K!! It's all right to skip the emoji, no worries! I'm excited to have a not quite-staff member among my crew, so thanks for asking about him 🧡🧡

Zayn Weatherwax graduated from NRC less than a decade ago, so he still sees Mozus Trein as more of an authority figure than a potential colleague or peer. Zayn's grades were good in Trein's history classes, because he always kept up with the reading, and looked into supplemental books on topics he took a particular interest in. However, he was often called out for daydreaming in class! Nowadays, their relationship is friendly and cordial, and Trein often visits Zayn's bookstore to look for first editions and unusual volumes. But Zayn always finds himself replying to his requests with a formal "yes, sir!", and makes sure to stay alert so he won't get yelled at for zoning out....

Zayn and Sam have an understanding between them. Their shops don't really compete with one another, so they haven't got a rivalry, but they do cooperate with one another in terms of finding what the other wants. Zayn keeps his eyes peeled for books on certain supernatural or related topics to pass to Sam, and in exchange, Sam makes sure that Zayn has access to his bulk discount for new editions that he might want to carry in his shop. They also get together for drinking nights occasionally, along with—

—Divus Crewel, who desperately wants to make over this ridiculous country bumpkin of a man. Zayn loves hearing about Divus's pets, and is fascinated by his couture, but doesn't think he'd be able to pull off some of the high-fashion looks his sophisticated friend recommends for him. He does set aside any vintage fashion magazines that he finds for Divus, though, even though he doesn't know which ones are going to be hits and which ones will be delicately frowned at.

That leaves the big man. Ashton Vargas. Also known in Zayn's phone as "Do Not Text!!! Especially Not After Wine!!!" Vargas and Zayn had an ill-fated relationship about a year ago, which ended abruptly when Zayn discovered that he wasn't the only pretty bookworm in Ashton's life. By means of an accidental group text. That Vargas sent out to all of them. Zayn had been somewhat invested in the relationship, and had been interested in seeing how it was going, but he didn't like that Ashton had felt the need to hide that they weren't exclusive with one another. They stopped seeing one another, and things are awkward when they encounter each other in town. But occasionally, Zayn gets a message from him. And he only remembers not to text back about half the time....

twst character relationship asks!!

[lightvsdark18]

Some responses to voicelines (Ruggie)

Hey, here's your prize! Shyeheehee, ain't it nice to be rewarded just for coming to school every day? You better be here tomorrow, too.

*confused and shunned to speak*

Why're you tryin' to look after me? You're such a weirdo.

What's wrong with wanting to help you out?

You really are such a goody-goody. Don't come cryin' to me if it bites you in the rear. Though depending on what it's about, I miiight be inclined to lend a helpin' hand.

Good to know, you brat.

Looks like I'm still growing. I gotta keep you around!

Oh, now you need me.

School Uniform

As they say, there's no such thing as a free lunch.

Unless someone else is paying for it.

Can you really afford to be spacing out?

... Maybe a little bit.

Need somethin' from me? I'll hear you out if you gimme something in return.

Like what?

I'm willing to keep an eye on Grim anytime you need a break. How's ten marks an hour sound?

... I'll think about it.

You gotta think about what you'll be doin' after graduation and act accordingly. Life doesn't end with graduation, y'know.

I'm fully aware of that, Ruggie. It's just hard when you have no motivation.

P.E. Uniform

I'm a whiz at sports. Well, I'm better than you, anyway.

I don't play sports, so you're really not complimenting yourself there, Ruggie.

Uuugh, I'm starving. I wanna gorge on sugary donuts dunked in milk until I pop.

... Chocolate donut holes.

You got on Coach Vargas' bad side? Just compliment his physique and all will be forgiven.

But he doesn't deserve compliments from me.

Labwear

You'd better stay away from the botanical garden. If you bother Leona while he's trying to nap... Ooh, I shudder to think.

You act like I haven't disturbed his naps before.

Jack is growing a cactus in his room. Is it for emergency rations or somethin'?

I think he's just growing it for fun.

When it comes to cooking, all I can do is throw together whatever's on hand, but it seems like Leona doesn't care as long as it's edible.

I have a cheap meal idea: rice, ground meat and taco seasoning.

I can tell you what was on last year's test. I'll even give you the friend discount!

I think I can handle the test on my own, thanks though.

Ceremonial Robes

You don't know about this school's history? But you GO here!

That doesn't mean I'll look up the history. I shouldn't even be here.

How about a nice picture of you in your robes to remember the occasion? It's just ten thaumarks a copy! What a steal, right?

Really, Ruggie?

Ugh, I'm beat. I'm always so tense durin' formal ceremonies, since I'm not used to them yet. How about you?

I get fidgety from sitting for so long.

Your makeup's smudged. It's okay, I'll fix it. Don't worry, I used to do this as a part-time job!

Oh, okay.

Dorm Uniform

Who just stepped foot in my territory?

I got leftover cookies.

I'm heading to the cafeteria with Leona. Wanna come with? Havin' another gofer will make things a lot easier.

*shakes head playfully*

The most important thing on the savanna is to never let your guard down. If you do… you'll be someone's dinner!

Grim, he meant you'll get bullied.

Even if you can't use magic, there're plenty of ways you can make up for it. Want the whole lecture?

No, not really.

Gala Couture

I used to babysit the neighborhood kids back when I lived in the slums. I'd make 'em flower crowns like this.

Aw.

Leona looked almost princely in his fairy getup. ...Wait, duh. He IS a prince.

But he doesn't act like one.

Easy there. If this outfit gets wrinkled, Professor Crewel's gonna chew our heads off.

He can kiss my ass, I don't want to be here.

Halloween

You better run if you don't want your treasure plundered!

What happens if I don't have treasure for you to steal?

Hmm. Pie, gratin, soup… Oh, don't mind me. Just debating what to do with all the pumpkin guts we scooped outta the jack-o'-lanterns.

... I think the soup because it's chilly out. Heh, pumpkin donuts.

Did you see what Ortho did to scare people? He'd ambush 'em and blast loud screams and banging sounds. The way people jumped and freaked out was hilarious!

I hope he doesn't do that to me cause that hurt me than scare me.

It's a Halloween night packed with ghosts. You might wanna take off now if you don't wanna get scared.

You're saying this to a horror fan. The fun is just starting.

Pirate ships remind me of this time I worked on a cruise ship and got real seasick. Luckily, I adjusted after a few days at sea. a price, of course.

You worked on a cruise?

[deathbyoctopi]

Hihihi quite honestly, I can't fault you for forgetting about Song Lan when almost all of my Yi City content banks on the idea that he will never pop up and they can keep living happily, yes, hmm hmm XD Out of sight and out of mind, you know.

There are so many reasons Song Lan could be missing anyways, from him having hardwired instructions to patrol at certain hours unless ordered to stay, to Xue Yang keeping him under a blanket when he is inactive because why not add insult to injury, to him suddenly being free due to Xue Yang's mind reset and having stepped out of the house to get a shovel and bury him...

Anyways, forgotten Song Lan or not, I remember Nepenthe as an incredibly gripping and unfairly saddening fic, banking on my fear of memory loss to boot, so forgetting the fierce corpse is the least of my concerns when Xue Yang just walks away and Xingchen wakes up omfg you MADE IT and you WON'T EVEN KNOWWWW TT-TT

As for One Satisfied Customer, I have no regrets whatsoever that the whole debacle ended up with the madam almost booting them and the price remains unspoken of until the end -which it was solved too anyways, hahaha! No complaints there.

I suppose the madam measured Xiao Xingchen's wealth by sight alone, and while he might be dressed humbly, I should bet Shuanghua alone could be worth a couple omegas at least... And considering Xiao Xingchen got the feral one, I'm inclined to believe Xue Yang comes with a hefty discount XD

That fic was so entertaining, very well crafted in terms of worldbuilding, setting the stage very clearly from a slice of Xiao Xingchen's life -that turns out to be life-changing for him!! I always love how good chemistry they have, particularly in your fics, no matter if canon, canon-adjacent or completely bonkers au, xuexiao always manage to find each other and click so well!

(YES!! EVEN IN PRICELESS!!! XD)

Your penguins look healthy and lovely. Picture me like a happy ornithologist. ^-^

As for my nagging thoughts... I'm in the bad habit of correcting and expanding (minimally) my fics days, weeks and even months after posting them. Whatever regrets I might have, I try to correct them with minimal changes and hope no one noticed my blunder.

A good example of that was A Comedy of Yi City Errors, where there was quite an incoherence with the timing because according to one chapter Song Lan arrives the same day as the other three, but in the next Xiao Xingchen&Co have already spent one night there...

But that was easy enough to fix, hehehe. And that fic in particular was already a clusterfuck of well-timed coincidences, so I doubt anyone paid attention to that XD

No, the things that bother me in a fic are the tonal inconsistences, which tend to happen to me if I write long fics (which I don't generally like) because depending on the day the characters will be more spiked up than others...

That is something I cannot fix afterwards with a couple extra lines, it's part of the fic structure, so those I don't usually re-read with the hopes of forgetting enough about them to look at them with really fresh eyes without being bombarded by all the weird shit going on there >-<

Fortunately, I don't think I have any xuexiao fics with this problem because I treat those with the utmost love and reverence ^-^ but I was very, very upset with the way Secrets Light as a Feather (a jadecest fic) shaped up, to the point I considered abandoning it despite being part of an event... U_U

Thank you for taking part in this little ask game with me!! Sorry about the late answer, and I'm definitely looking forward to seeing more penguins of yours and introducing you to a few of my own >w<

[tarathijewels]

Buy Imitation Necklaces Online for Stunning Looks at Tarathi

When it comes to accessorizing, nothing elevates your look quite like the perfect necklace. But let’s be honest — buying high-end jewelry isn’t always feasible. That’s where imitation necklaces come into play! With the same elegance and beauty as real gold or diamond jewelry, imitation necklaces offer an affordable yet stylish alternative. Whether you’re attending a wedding, party, or a simple dinner, an imitation necklace can transform your outfit in no time.

So, if you’re looking to add a touch of glamour to your wardrobe, let me introduce you to the fabulous collection at Tarathi Jewels. Tarathi offers a wide variety of designs that are perfect for any occasion, and yes, you can now buy imitation necklace online from their website.

Why Choose Imitation Necklaces?

One of the best things about imitation necklaces is that they’re versatile. Want something that looks grand but won’t break the bank? Imitation necklaces give you the freedom to choose styles that you’d normally hesitate to buy due to cost. And guess what? These necklaces are made with such precision and attention to detail that it’s often hard to tell them apart from real jewelry!

Imagine wearing a stunning, heavy necklace set at a wedding — no one would know it’s not real!

Imitation jewelry also gives you the option to experiment with different trends without long-term commitments. Tired of your old style? No problem! Just hop online and refresh your collection with the latest designs at Tarathi.

Why Buy Imitation Necklace Online?

Now, you might wonder — why should you buy imitation necklace online rather than in-store? First off, online shopping offers a greater variety. At Tarathi, you can browse through countless styles from the comfort of your home. Plus, when you shop online, you get access to exclusive deals and discounts that aren’t available in physical stores.

Another perk of online shopping is that you can compare different styles, read customer reviews, and make an informed decision without any pressure. Tarathi’s website also offers detailed descriptions of each product, so you know exactly what you’re getting. With just a few clicks, you can have your favorite imitation necklace delivered right to your doorstep!

How easy is that, right?

Trending Designs at Tarathi

Tarathi Jewels is well-known for its trendy yet timeless designs. From traditional Kundan sets to contemporary chokers, they’ve got something for every fashionista out there. If you’re into bold and statement pieces, you’ll love their collection of heavy bridal necklaces. On the other hand, if you prefer subtle and elegant designs, their minimalist sets will surely catch your eye.

Looking for something unique? Tarathi’s handcrafted pieces are one-of-a-kind, ensuring you’ll stand out no matter the occasion.

A Few Tips for Maintaining Your Imitation Jewelry

While imitation jewelry is more affordable, it does require some care to maintain its shine and beauty. Here are a few tips:

Avoid exposing it to water: Imitation jewelry may tarnish if exposed to moisture.

Store properly: Keep each piece in a separate pouch to avoid scratches.

Clean with a soft cloth: Gently wipe your jewelry after each use to keep it looking fresh.

It’s really that simple to keep your imitation necklace looking as good as new!

Conclusion

Accessorizing doesn’t have to be expensive! Imitation necklaces allow you to enjoy luxury looks at a fraction of the cost. So why wait? Head over to Tarathi Jewels and explore their stunning collection. You’ll definitely find a piece that suits your style, and remember, you can easily buy imitation necklace online with just a few clicks!

For any order and shipping info please mail to tarathijewels@gmail.com Alternatively you can contact us via Whatsapp on +91 73052 03958. And also visit our website for more collections www.tarathijewels.com

[maharghaideovate]

Crack the Code: Admissions for Educational Administration at Symbiosis

Level up in your education career—maybe an Educational Administration course from Symbiosis Centre For Distance Learning can be your way to go. But, of course, first, you have to get in. Let's break down the process and sprinkle some pro tips in for good measure, along with the money talk.

The Symbiosis Admission Roadmap

This is the step-by-step procedure in application. Not exactly rocket science, but you have to pay attention:

Check the Basics

Bachelor's degree? Check.

Work experience in education? Extra credit.

English language skills? You'll need 'em.

Gather Your Docs

Transcripts from previous studies

Updated resume (make it shine!)

Two letters of recommendation (choose wisely)

Statement of purpose (more on this later)

Proof of English proficiency – if required

Online Application

Visit Symbiosis' website

Sign up

Fill the form out – double-check everything

Upload your documents

Pay the Fee

Application fees vary; check the website.

Pay online, it's easy and fast.

Entrance Exam

Symbiosis Entrance Test (SET) for Educational Administration

Covers education basics, reasoning, and English

Interview

If you clear the SET, you will be called for an interview

Could either be in person or online

Decision Time

Symbiosis will let you know via email

In case you are selected, hustle is real! If not, don't sweat – there's always next time

Pro Tips for a Standout Application

Want to boost your chances? Try these:

Nail Your Statement of Purpose

Show why you're passionate about educational administration.

Link your past to your future

Be clear as to why Symbiosis

Choose Recommenders Wisely

Choose people who really know your work

Brief them on the program and your goals

Ace the SET

Brush up on current education trends

Practice the logical reasoning questions

Read, read, read to improve your English

Shine in the Interview

Research Symbiosis and the program thoroughly

Get ready to talk about your philosophy of education

Prepare questions – it shows you're serious

Bring Out Your Unique Experiences

Education volunteer work? Mention it.

Led any school projects? Talk about them.

Faced unique challenges in teaching? Share your insights.

Scholarships and Aid

Education can be pricey, but don't let that stop you. Symbiosis Distance MBA has options:

Merit Scholarships

Top scorers in SET can get partial or full tuition waivers

Academic performance in your bachelor's degree counts

Need-Based Financial Aid

Limited funds available for students who need it most

You'll need to provide financial documents

Work-Study Programs

Some students can work part-time on campus

Helps offset living expenses

Education Loans

Symbiosis partners with some banks for student-friendly loans

Check the website for current partner banks

Early Bird Discounts

Sometimes offered for early applications

Keep an eye on the admissions page for announcements

Key Dates to Remember

Don't miss out because you forgot to check the calendar. Here are the big days:

Application Open: Usually in January (check the website for exact dates)

SET Exam: Normally held in May

Interview Period: June-July

Final Results: By August

Program Start: September

The Bottom Line

Getting into the Educational Administration offered by Symbiosis isn't exactly a piece of cake, but it isn't Mission Impossible either. Just be thorough, be genuine, and show them why you are going to be the next big thing in education leadership.

Remember, it's not just good grades that Symbiosis Distance Learning Centre is looking for. They want passionate educators ready to shape the future of learning. And if you're that person, well—what are you waiting for? Get that application rolling!

And hey, if you've got questions, Symbiosis has a dedicated admissions team. Don't be shy—reach out. They can help you on this journey.

Best of luck to any future education leader; Symbiosis might only prove to be a launchpad in making a difference in the world of education.

[lucygraysboy]

“that’s what i thought. you’re the real MVP for drivin’ at this time of year. remember when we got snowed in? all those years ago? it’s a wonder we both made it home in one piece.” especially with how emotionally charged those few days were. “don’t even ask how many times i’ve seen barbie,” he laughs, blushing at the confession and gently elbowing her side when she begins to giggle. “please, she wanted to camp here, in our living room, and wait for you. i had to beg her to let you breathe, thought you might be too tired to host a party right away.” billy loves charlie and manuela with all his heart, but they can be a bit much. he didn’t want to overwhelm lucy gray. “of course, i will. though, i’m not sure if she’ll accept anythin’ from us. think your mama gave her a pretty big discount on those baby blankets.” quilts. “you’re the coolest thing i’ve seen.” no view can compete. there could be central park or statue of liberty right outside and he still wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of her. “i have a little movie marathon planned for tonight. high school musical is on disney+.” if by the end of the day she still has enough energy to keep her eyes open, he’ll happily grab some blankets and snacks and turn it on. “i’ve just missed my pretty birdie so much. i can’t believe you’re really here.” smiling sweetly when she touches his face, he nuzzles into her palm and closes his eyes for a moment. arms coiling around her waist a little tighter, hugging her. he just prays blair doesn’t do anything silly. she’s had a hard time letting go, unarchiving old instagram posts of the two of them, trying to text him and be friends with him. it’s been long two weeks, having lucy gray here is like a breath of fresh air. “of course, i do. bryan adams, bon jovi, lucy gray baird… my favorite singers, not necessarily in this order.” it’s so cute how she always picks up on these subtle little references. “we have all the time in the world, pajarita.” the color in his cheeks deepens when she kisses his head, arms squeezing her waist three times. i love you. “if not today, we’ll check out the fun carousels and stuff tomorrow. oh, yeah… the swimming pool does have a slide and there’s hot tubs, too. wanna go to starbucks first, then for a quick swim, and to central park or maybe check out time square. there’s so many things you need to see and try.” and if she’s still against getting on a motorcycle with him, he figures they’ll use the subway, and that should be an adventure all on its own. “there’s a starbucks a few blocks away, always get my morning coffee there. but there’s also this cool, family-owned juice bar not far away from here. usually, if i just want a snack, i go to this bakery right around the corner, great pastries, delicious croissants, but the coffee isn’t all that good. are you hungry hungry? we can get pizza? i know a real good pizza place in little italy, one slice is about this big.” he uses his hands to demonstrate the enormous size of said pizza slice.

dressed in pink high waisted pants, a brown cowgirl snoopy top underneath her fleece fuzzy zip up with large flowers printed on it and a pink beanie with matching gloves. she’s super glad she brought the fuzzy jacket to shield herself against the icy cold new york winds. after finding somewhere to park the silverado, barb azure and the rest of the covey will be here later this week— god, she prays no one decides to rob her mama’s truck. it’s in a well lit and seemingly guarded parking garage to billy’s condo but still. she’s still amazed she managed to get here in one piece, actually still in shock at what she’s went through to get here. and then to come and stand in the middle of all of it, is surreal. eyes looking up at how tall everything is, buildings instead of mountains. people instead of animals— everywhere. noisy horns and crazy attitudes. no more southern hospitality to be found in sight, it’s certainly all very overwhelming but still not as bad as she imagined. and the moment billy’s came and got her, it’s like the moment in nashville again, but triple that at seeing such a fascinating sky line when the elevator ride up to his room shows her that. “i really love my flowers,” she’s in the midst of gushing about her roses and how he approached her with them like a prince when the door to his condo comes open and the inside of it makes her go speechless. “this is—” amazing. bambi eyes wide and bewildered. the interior but then the decorations… “looks like i live here.” the brunette laughs, standing in awe and confusion simultaneously. she reaches down to pull her converses off, then trails over to the living room, “look at this place. the view, the luxury, the view— that’s insane! and these,” hands touch the fairy lights, WHERE in the world did he find such girly like stuff? wait…smile dares to falter, is those blair’s? she retracts her hand, like it burns her. then eyes refocus on something else, going over to the couch to sit, a happy smile gracing her features. rainbow princess. “aww,” placing the roses on the table, she grabs the chocolates, “for me?” reading the card while opening the chocolates, taking the one with marshmallow inside it. her favorite. a sweet smile gracing her face, casting him a loving look.

[c-is-for-circinate]

For a long, large part of my life, being queer in a media landscape--finding queerness in a media landscape--has meant theft.

I'm a Fandom Old, somehow, these days, older than most and younger than some, in that way that's grown associated with grumpy crotchetyness and shotguns on porches and back in my day, we had to wade through our Yahoo Groups mailing lists uphill both ways, boring and irrelevant anecdotes from Back In Those Days when homophobia clearly worked differently than it does now, probably because we weren't trying hard enough. I've seen a lot of stories through the years. I've read a lot of fanfic. (More days than not, for the past twenty years. I've read a lot of fanfic.)

When people my age start groaning and sighing at conversations about representation and queerbaiting, when we roll our eyes and drag all the old war stories out again in the face of AO3 is terrible and Not Good Enough, so often what we say is: you Young Folks Today have no idea how hard, how scary, how limiting it was to be queer anywhere Back In Those Days. Including online, maybe especially online, including in a media landscape that hated us so much more than any one you've ever known. And that is true. Always and everywhere, again and again, it's true, we remember, it's true.

We don't talk so much about the joy of it.

Online fan spaces were my very first queer communities, ever. I was thirteen, I was fourteen, I was fifteen--I was a lonely, over-precocious "gifted kid" two years too young for my grade level in an all-girls' Catholic school in the suburbs--I lived in a world where gay people were a rumor and an insult and a news story about murder. I was straight, of course, obviously, because real people were straight and anyway I was weird enough already--I couldn't be two things strange, couldn't be gay too, but--well, I could read the stories. I could feel things about that. I would have those stories to help me, a few years later, when I knew I couldn't call myself straight any more.

And those stories were theft. There was never any doubt about that. We wrote disclaimers at the top of every fic, with the specter of Anne Rice's lawyers around every corner. We hid in back-corners of the internet, places you could only find through a link from a link from a link on somebody else's recs page, being grateful for the tiny single-fandom archives when you found them, grateful for the webrings where they existed. It was theft, all of it, the stories about characters we did not own, the videotaped episodes on your best friend's VHS player, one single episode pulled off of Limewire over the course of three days.

It was theft, we knew, to even try and find ourselves in these stories to begin with. How many fics did I read in those days about two men who'd always been straight, except for each other, in this one case, when love was stronger than sexual orientation? We stole our characters away from the heterosexual lives they were destined to have. We stole them away from writers and producers and TV networks who work overtime to shower them in Babes of the Week, to pretend that queerness was never even an option. This wasn't given to us. This wasn't meant for us. This wasn't ours to have, ever, ever in the first place. But we took it anyway.

And oh, my friends, it was glorious.

We took it. We stole. And again and again, for years and years and years, we turned that theft into an art. We looked for every opening, every crack in every sidewalk where a little sprout of queerness might grow, and we claimed it for our own and we grew whole gardens. We grew so sly and so skilled with it, learning to spot the hints of oh, this could be slashy in every new show and movie to come our way. Do you see how they left these character dynamics here, unattended on the table? How ripe they are for the pocketing. Here, I'll help you carry them. We'll make off with these so-called straight boys, and we only have to look back if somebody sets out another scene we want for our own.

We were thieves, all of us, and that was fine and that was fair, because to exist as queer in the world was theft to begin with. Stolen time, stolen moments--grand larceny of the institution of marriage, breaking and entering to rob my mother's hopes for grandchildren. Every shoplifted glance at the wrong person in the locker room (and it didn't matter if we never peeked, never dared, they called us out on it anyway). Every character in every fic whose queerness became a crime against this ex-wife, that new love interest. Every time we dared steal ourselves away from the good straight partners we didn't want to date.

And: we built ourselves a den, we thieves, wallpapered in stolen images and filled to the brim with all the words we'd written ourselves. We built ourselves a home, and we filled it with joy. Every vid and art and fic, every ship, every squee. Over and over, every straight boy protagonist who abandoned all womankind for just this one exception with his straight boy protagonist partner found gay orgasms and true love at the end.

Over and over, we said: this isn't ours, this isn't meant to be ours, you did not give this to us--but we are taking it anyway. We will burglarize you for building blocks and build ourselves a palace. These stories and this place in the world is not for us, but we exist, and you can't stop us. It's ours now, full of color and noise, a thousand peoples' ideas mosaic'ed together in celebration. We made this, and it will never be just yours again. You won't ever truly get it back, no matter how many lawyers you send, not completely. We keep what we steal.

.

Things shifted over time, of course. That's good. That's to be celebrated. Nobody should have to steal to survive. It should not be a crime, should not feel like a crime, to find yourself and your space in the world.

There were always content creators who could slip a little wink in when they laid out their wares, oh what's this over here, silly me leaving this unattended where anybody could grab it, of course there might be more over by the side door if you come around the alleyway (but if anybody asks, you didn't get this from ME). We all watched Xena marry Gabrielle, in body language and between the lines. We sat around and traded theories and rumors about whether the people writing Due South knew what they were doing when they sent their buddy cops off into the frozen north alone together at the end of the show, if they'd done it on purpose, if they knew. But over the years, slowly, thankfully, the winks became less sly.

A teenage boy put his hand on another teenage boy's hand and said, you move me, and they kissed on network TV, in a prime-time show, on FOX, and the world didn't burn down. Here and there, where they wanted to, where they could without getting caught by their bosses and managers, content creators stopped subtly nudging people around the back door and started saying, "Here. This is on offer here too, on purpose. You get to have this, too."

And of course, of course that came with a whole host of problems too. Slide around to the back door but you didn't get this from me turned into it's an item on our special menu, totally legit, you've just got to ask because the boss throws a fit if we put it out front. Shopkeepers and content creators started advertising on the sly, come buy your fix here!, hiding the fine print that says you still have to take what you've purchased home and rebuild it with your semi-legal IKEA hacks. Maybe they'll consider listing that Destiel or Sterek as a full-service menu item next year. Is that Crowley/Aziraphale the real thing or is it lite?

And those problems are real and the conversations are worth having, and it's absolutely fair to be frustrated that you can't find the ship you want on sale in anything like your color and size in a vast media landscape packed full of discount hetships and fast-fashion m/f. It's fair to be angry. It's fair to be frustrated. Queerbait is a word that exists for a reason.

There's a part of me that hurts, though, every time the topic comes up. It's a confusing, bad-mannered part of me, but it's still very real. And it's not because I'm fawning for crumbs, trying to be the Good, Non-Threatening Gay. It's not that I'm scared and traumatized by the thought of what might happen if we dare raise our voices and ask for attention. (Well. Not mostly. I'll always remember being quiet and scared and fifteen, but it's been a long two decades since then. I know how to ask for a hell of a lot more now.)

It's because I remember that cozy, plush-wallpapered den of joyful thieves. I remember you keep what you steal.

Every single time--every time--when a story I love sets a couple of characters out on a low, unguarded table, perfectly placed to be pilfered on the sly and taken home and smushed together like a couple of dolls, my very first thought is always, always joy. Always, that instinct says, yay! Says, this is ours now. As soon as I go home and crawl into that pillow-fort den, my instincts say, I will surely find people already at work combing through spoils and finding new ways to combine them, new ways to make them our own. I know there's fic for that. I've already seen fic for that, and I wasn't really interested last time, but the new store display's got my brain churning, and I can't wait to see what the crew back at the hideout does with this.

Every time, that's where my brain goes. And oh, when I realize the display's put out on purpose, that somebody snuck in a legitimate special menu item, when the proprietor gives me the nod and wink and says, you don't have to come around the side, I know it's not much but here--there is so much joy and relief and hope in me from that! Oh, what we can make with these beautiful building blocks. Oh what a story we can craft from the pieces. Oh, the things we can cobble together. Look at that, this one's a little skimpy on parts but we can supplement it, this one's got a whole outline we can fill in however we want. This one technically comes semi-preassembled, and that's boring as shit and a pain to take back apart, but that's fine, we'll manage. We're artists and thieves. I bet someone's pulling out the AU saw to cut it to pieces already.

And then I get back to our den, which has moved addresses a dozen times over the years and mostly hangs out on Tumblr now (and the roof leaks and the landlord's sketchy as fuck but at least they don't charge rent, and we've made worse places our own). And I show up, ready for joy--ready for a dozen other people who saw that low-hanging fruit on that unguarded table, who got the nod and wink about the special menu item, who're ready to get so excited about this newest haul. Did you see what we picked up? The theft was so easy, practically begging to be stolen. The last owner was an idiot with no idea what to do with it. The last owner knew exactly what it could become, bless their heart, under a craftsman with more time on their hands, so they looked away on purpose at just the right time to let me take it home. I show up every time ready for our space, the place that fed me on joy and self-confidence when I was fifteen and starving. The place that taught me, yes, we are thieves, because it is RIGHT to take what we need, and the beautiful things we create are their own justification. We are thieves, and that's wonderful, because nothing is handed to us and that means we get to build our own palaces. We get to keep everything we steal.

I go home, and even knowing the world is different, my instincts and heart are waiting for that. And I walk in the door, and I look at my dash, and I glance over at twitter, and--

And people are angry, again. Angry at the slim pickings from the hidden special menu. So, so tired and angry, at once again having to steal.

And they're right to be! Sometimes (often, maybe) I think they're angry at the wrong people--more angry with the shopkeeper who offers the bite-sized sampler platter of side characters or sneaks their queer content in on the special menu than the ones who don't include it at all. But it's not wrong to be mad that Disney's once again advertising their First Gay Character only to find out it's a tiny sprinkle of a one-line extra on an otherwise straight sundae. It's not wrong to be furious at the world because you've spent your whole life needing to be a thief to survive. It's far from wrong. I'm angry about it too.

But this was my den of thieves, my chop shop, my makerspace. Growing up in fandom, I learned to pick the locks on stories and crack the safes of subtext at the very same time I learned to create. They were the same thing, the same art. We are thieves, my heart says, we are thieves, and that's what makes us better than the people we steal from. We deconstruct every time we create. We build better things out of the pieces.

And people are angry that the pre-fab materials are too hard to find, the pickings too slim, the items on sale too limited? Yes, of course they are, of course they should be--but my heart. Oh, my heart. Every single time, just a little bit, it breaks.

Of course the stories are terrible (they have always been terrible). Of course they are, but we are thieves. We steal the best parts and cobble them back together and what we make is better than it was before. The craftsman's eye that cases a story for weak points, for blank spaces, for anywhere we can fit a crowbar and pry apart this casing--that's skill and art and joy. Of course we shouldn't have to, of course we shouldn't have to, but I still love it. I still want it, crave it. I still thrill every time I see it, a story with hairline cracks that we can work open with clever hands to let the queer in.

That used to be cause for celebration, around here. I ask him to go back to the ruins of Aeor with me, two men together alone on an expedition in the frozen north, it feels like a gift. And I understand why some people take it as an insult. I understand not good enough. I understand how something can feel like a few drops of water to someone dying of thirst, like a slap in the face. If it was so easy to sneak it hidden onto the special menu, to place it on the unguarded side table for someone else to run off to, why not let it sit out front and center in the first place? I know it's frustrating. It should be. We should fight. We should always fight. I know why.

But my heart, oh, my heart. My heart only knows what it's been taught. My heart sees, this thing right here, the proprietor left it there for you with a nod and a wink because they Get It. It's not put together yet, but it's better that way anyway. It's so full of pieces to pull apart and reassemble. I bet they've got a whole mosaic wall going up at home already. We can bring it home and make it OURS, more than it was ever theirs, forget half of what it came from and grow a new garden in what remains.

And I go home to find anger, and my heart breaks instead.

[rayshippouuchiha]

I read “[Naruto] made budgeting and math his bitch” and all I want to say, to ask, is to consider the possibility that he’s the one in charge of Team 7’s budget? Please and thank you for your time.

It takes Naruto a bit to notice it. Takes a while for all the pieces to line up just right for him to see it.

His team, as talented as they all are, are absolute shit with money.

They're up north, huddled together on the roadside just inside of Tomi, the capital city of the midsized island that makes up Gold Country, when the truth comes out.

Their mission had been long and draining and they're all looking forward to a ship back to the mainland and a stop at an Inn for a night before they start the trek back to Konoha.

The only problem with that plan is the fact that everyone is flat broke.

Everyone, that is, except for Naruto. Which the other three would know if they'd bothered to ask him instead of assuming he was just as broke as they are.

Because Naruto's wallet is basically still as fat as ever despite the length of time they've been gone and the fact that he's done his definition of splurging at the shops in Tomi. He'd put the few hours where they'd split up before meeting again to start looking for a ship back to very very good use.

Supplies were always cheaper for him outside of Konoha proper where the shopkeepers don't know him and he's actually allowed to haggle. Plus their contractor, an ancient silk merchant named Kaede, had taken enough of a liking to Naruto to put in a good word for him at the local shops.

A courtesy that she, apparently, hadn't offered to the rest of the team or maybe just one they hadn't bothered to take her up on. Naruto isn't sure which it is exactly.

But if it's the second option then Naruto's not sure what to think. He'd never turn a discount or chance to haggle down, no matter how small it is. He knows better.

"Well," Kakashi-sensei says brightly. "Looks like we'll be running to the mainland and camping until we're back home. Let that be a lesson to all of us to bring more money next time."

Sakura looks like she's on the verge of either tears or a tantrum and Sasuke looks as blank as always except for the slightly displeased curl of his mouth.

Naruto finds himself a mix of both of their reactions because what?

Bring more money? That was Kakashi-sensei's solution? Just bring more? Like what Naruto knows was in each of their wallets before they left Konoha wasn't a good six months of Naruto's regular budget?

And they've got relatively little to show for the fact that they spent it all?

How??

It's in that moment that the truth hits Naruto directly in the face.

He's the only poor person on this Team. He's the only one of them who has ever had to actually worry about money.

Sakura has parents who actually love and house her, all her mission earnings are pure profit. Kakashi-sensei is probably the shinobi version of rich with his rank and all the high-level missions he's taken. And Sasuke is absolutely the shinobi version of rich with the wealth of an entire Clan at his disposal.

When they run out of money they just ... go get more.

Naruto, with his crumbling apartment and trap-wire thin budget, lives an entirely different kind of life.

They can probably just walk right into the Konoha bank he's sure they all use, the same one Naruto's never been allowed into, and just withdraw more money.

Not Naruto. All of his money, whatever he's scrimped and saved for, has always either been on his person or hidden away in a hollowed space beneath his bed.

For a long moment, Naruto debates with himself. Considers not saying anything and just following along with Kakashi's plan.

But, well, he does have the money and they are his Team.

So ...

"I got this," Naruto huffs out as he holds up his still bulging wallet. "But we're doing it my way and you'd all better pay me back if I spend anything."

He doesn't bother to listen to their protests or whatever they might say or do. Instead he turns on his heel and stalks off towards the docks, intent on finding them a ride to the mainland that doesn't make him want to gouge his eyes out at the price.

Half an hour later finds them settled on the deck of a small fishing vessel, warm pork buns in hand, and Naruto not missing a single yen.

The hoard of shadow clones he has practically crawling over the ship ended up being payment enough for the weathered-looking woman who'd given them passage.

He ignores the way the others stare at him and focuses on eating his lunch, mind already ticking over what Inns he remembers them passing and what he could do to get them a night's stay for the lowest cost possible.

With him in the lead, they manage to make it all the way back to Fire Country without having to pay for much of anything at all. Naruto had bartered everything from his shadow clones to Kakashi-sensei kissing the back of some woman's hand to his own help modeling a kimono while waitressing in his female form at a restaurant in Blouder City for food and lodging.

He'd actually like that last job the most since Tsubame-san had not only let him keep the kimono but he'd made a small fortune in tips as well.

It's not until they stop at the Black River Inn, the last waypoint before they reach Konoha proper, that Naruto finally steps back. Much to the puzzlement of the rest of the team, he lets Kakashi-sensei step up and rent them a room instead.

Tatsuyomi, the man who runs the inn, is the brother-in-law of the woman who runs the Tree Bud in Konoha.

He knows Naruto on sight.

It's not until they're settled into their shared room that night, the others eating a hot meal from the kitchen and Naruto eating the last of meat buns the cook Akira had slipped him before Naruto left the restaurant in Boulder, that someone finally asks.

"How'd you get so good with money, Naruto?" Sakura is the one to break the ice. "Figured you'd blow it all on ramen or something by now."

"He didn't actually pay for much," Sasuke points out quietly. "And nothing full price. He traded and haggled for everything instead."

"Still," Sakura presses. "He's the only one of us who isn't broke and he managed to get us a stay in every Inn we came across on the way home. Kind of weird."

Naruto stops, stares down that the cold meat bun in his hand, eyes squinted almost closed and shoulders tight.

He forces himself to breathe, to let the tension flow off and away.

He takes a bite of his bun.

Chews.

"I've never had parents," Naruto finds himself saying.

Around him the room goes absolutely silent.

"Don't have a Clan or a guardian or anything either," Naruto's shoulders shift restlessly, nails biting into the soft flesh of the bun in his hand. "Been living off the orphan's stipend since I was four. The pay from that is ... there's never been a lot to go around. There's always bills and supplies so I had to learn to make what I had really count. Being hungry for a long time sucks you know? Never want to do that again, not after the first few times. Not unless I have to."

"Y-You get mission pay now though right?" Sakura says, voice low and eyes wide.

"Don't get the stipend anymore though, that stopped when I got my headband," Naruto shrugs again, uncomfortable in his skin for a reason he can't properly name. "And mission pay gets split so ..."

The quiet is thick around them. Sasuke is practically glaring at his bowl and Kakashi-sensei's knuckles are white around the edges of his book.

"But yeah," Naruto finally says as he pushes himself up onto his feet, half eaten bun in hand, and turns to hop up onto the windowsill, "I learned money stuff real young. Probably the only school thing I was ever really good at."

A flex of muscle has him out the window and sitting on the edge of the roof, feet dangling and conversation officially over.

The rest of the night and the journey back to Konoha proper is quiet.

The next time they go on an extended mission outside of the village it's Naruto who's in charge of any and everything even remotely money-related as soon as they pass the border.

And if their mission pay starts getting split three ways instead of four, well, Kakashi-sensei doesn't say anything so Naruto doesn't either.

[dollmoth-productions]

PLAYTONIC YANDERE HAMILSQUAD

TW OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR STALKING POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR STOCKHOLM SYNDROME MANIPULATION ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR

Alexander Hamilton

💚 Alexander's possessive to the point where it's crazy if you were practically younger than him by even a year he will latch himself onto you it will be very dangerous person say to even be friends with you you'll practically be separated from the world at this point

💚 hopefully you get used to talking down to because you are practically going to be babied you" remember your Alex loves you you would be nothing without me" if your cold you get his jacket if you're bored you get to pre-read sandpaper if you want to talk to someone that's not him you'll just see some new red ink on his desk

Says it's from France

💚 when you do go to the Winter's ball you're practically decked out in the best clothing and some people even start asking to dance for you but you could feel Alex's gays in the background you know he's carrying his musket but sometimes you wish except that request to dance are so nice

💚 you hope that Eliza girl can distract him from now and you even accept a dance from one of his friends but they always informed him on if you're behaving or not so you can't reveal anything to them including John even if you do confront John and his behavior saying that he acts just as bad as him he just informed Alex and your punishment won't be so good

💚 your punishment was painful and long and soon after that you got baby again practically wrapped up in his coat and held onto he feels guilty on doing this but it's the only way to keep you safe

"I love you my sweet"

John Laurens

(John is not an UWU soft boy he's a Soldier)

💙 John's home life was never the best so when he finds someone like you who was practically like his little brother he lashed himself on he held on to you like you were nothing he was soft but strict if you think Alex is bad when it comes to him baby and you get ready for John

💙 when you knew he died you thought that you were free but little did you know he faked his death it was pretty easy and when she saw you again living your life with your love your life he saw this as an unacceptable

💙 you woke up and saw him covered in blood you thought that he was dead you were scared she turned to you and you recognize that smile it was soft it was gentle it was sweet but with a little bit of sickness to it you know that you weren't free you tried your best to backup you're backed up into a corner until you realize you had nowhere else to go and something hit the back of your head

💙 you woke up feeling something or someone petting your head and humming a song you felt safe until you woke up you felt unsafe when she looks into the swim mail your green eyes they were sickeningly sweet and he still smells of blood didn't even bother to dry himself off

💙" I know you're scared right now but everything will be okay once you accept that you live with me and only need me it's scary I know at the moment but I had to kill him he was a filthy you are not he was a filthy filthy Red Coat it's okay now you're safe with little Johnny"

Hercules Mulligan

🤎 he was a very interesting man when he first met him I mean he was always doing your outfits and it was nice that he would give you a discount you are really the best financially so it was really nice where do you know that his intentions weren't really the best

🤎 he really really did care about you I mean he will see you working on the front lines at the revolution after he doing and his concern skyrocketed he's more of a nice yandere being that she won't go full-on crazy unless necessary I mean sure he has a body count especially for you

🤎 he would be the one that's catching up your wounds if you weren't constantly getting injured he wouldn't be so concerned for you he's always looking for you when you know you're not that needed you're very tired person when you are overworked so he often is watching you when you sleep

🤎 when you guys went to the winter ball and people are practically falling over you it was nice to be appreciated by someone else and when you did except Advance you could feel Hercules worries but it was really pretty much jealousy you never really saw that person again

🤎 when it was time for him to go back to Ireland he took you with not really consensually he put a little something in your tea and well you couldn't stop yourself from falling asleep no one has really saw you again

Marquis De Lafayette

❤ he treats you like royalty even though he hates it if you're not being pampered by him we are and friends you were being paraded around you're practically seeing is his pride and joy even if you don't understand French economy compliments you it makes him happy to see you happy but it doesn't make him happy to see people by you that's not him the only people that he trusts around you is his friends

❤ if you weren't so precious to him he would have just knocked you around he's not the best person he's cocky he's arrogant he's a dick bag kind of like Thomas but that doesn't stop him from treating you any better then him he practically treats you better than his own friends which does get on their nerves but they don't mind

❤ he's so jealous that's practically overbearing I mean it's so crazy to even think that you have friends besides him "mon amour lumière de ma vie pourquoi parlez-vous à d'autres personnes?"

" because they are my friends Gilbert"

"They shouldn't be "

❤ when he does go back to France he's very busy with starting his own Revolution but he's also very busy with you being that you had your own life to get back to and possibly a family or spouse but once you reveal to him that you don't really have a spouse but you have a family to take care of that stopped him for a moment you're taking care of your family but you deserve a better family someone with riches

❤ one night when you actually came over it was nice to see that he already had some red wine set out and it was still very cold you sipped it and after a few minutes of talking you're wondering how strong this wine was you said you had to leave and well you passed out on the floor all you saw was the French man standing over you smiling with practically hearts in his eyes

This was so much fun actually doing one of my favorites fandoms as this and honestly I hope I get requests for this