#he was like. what if i used she/her pronouns

[nolita-fairytale]

and for us, it won't be long | joaquin torres x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: after joaquin's accident, you reconnect with your childhood friend

warnings: hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff, eventual smut, spoilers for captain america: brave new world, swearing, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers

word count: 2.7k

a/n: so i think this is a small cute mini series of exactly 3 parts. i haven't written a fic in a while so this is wild but i'm happy to be here. the title of this fic is from baynk's song, grin.

You watch him fall out of the sky on national television, the footage juxtaposed with an exterior shot of the Walter Reed Military Medical Center that’s got been stock footage, resulting in the world’s worst case of emotional whiplash. The news anchor’s voice is clear—reassuring, even—as he explains the situation: 

An accident involving the Falcon. 

In critical condition. 

The new Captain America at his side.

Hopeful. 

It’s the word he keeps repeating. 

The doctors are hopeful. 

But his words are lost on you, traveling in through one ear and out through another. In a state of shock, you’re only able to comprehend bits and pieces because watching the man you’ve known for most of your life soar through the air—not to mention, in flames—and plummet straight into the Indian Ocean, makes you feel like you’re going to pass out. 

It’s not like you expect for him to pick up—but you’re calling Joaquin’s phone, your heart practically beating out of your chest like he could—because there isn’t much else you feel like you can do. Besides, if, when he wakes up, you want him to know that you’ll be there.

You get his voicemail. 

Of course. 

But you can’t sit with this alone.

So you call your mom. And then his. And then three of you hold each other through the phone like he held your father all five years through The Blip. 

And when all is said and done, after days of agonizing nothingness, you get a text from his mother saying: 

He’s going to be okay. 

*

It’s the seventh time in the last ten minutes that Sam sees the screen of Joaquin’s phone flash upwards toward the hospital ceiling, signaling that he’s got yet another notification. 

“You should give ‘em a call,” Sam encourages.

Joaquin shoots a quizzical look to the man he’s looked up to his whole life, as Sam nods towards the cell phone once again, clarifying his previous statement with: “Your family, Torres. And whoever else’s been blowin’ your phone all day.” 

His face falls. 

The doctors had called to let his family know that he had made it through a successful surgery, and that he was going to be okay, but he hadn’t reached out just yet. Hell, he was almost grateful that his phone had been dead for days, crossing his fingers that the hospital wouldn’t find a spare charger. But then Sam came in this morning, brand new phone charger in hand, forcing Joaquin to return to reality: an overwhelm of missed calls and texts.

“I don’t-, I… I don’t want to worry them,” Joaquin hesitates, the disappointment in himself evident in how cautious he is. It’s why he’s been putting it off. He can’t seem to beat the nagging feeling that he should’ve done some differently—something so he didn’t have to make this kind of call. 

But he knows he’ll have to face the music sooner or later. 

“What-? What do I say? What am I supposed to tell them?” he asks earnestly, searching the face of his mentor for any kind of guidance. 

“Tell ‘em you’re gonna be okay,” Sam replies gently, the reassurance in his words allowing the obvious to land a little softer than it would had he chosen a different path. Joaquin nods slowly in response, reaching for the phone on his hospital bedside table. 

With a sigh and a heaviness he can’t yet name, Joaquin begins to scroll through the notifications. While he expects to see calls and texts from his parents, extended family members he hasn’t spoken to in years, he doesn’t expect to see 5 missed calls and 3 texts from you. 

Sam watches carefully as a look of surprise washes over his friend, colleague, and wingman’s face, and there’s something different about his reaction when his thumb hovers over your messages. 

“I’ll give you a few minutes, man,” Sam bows out, respectfully. 

*

When Joaquin finally texts you, it’s just a stupid GIF of a zombie rising from the grave. You’re less than amused by his humor at a time like this, but your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest as you see that the notification is from him. 2:08 pm 

You: Not funny, asshole! We’ve all been worried sick. 2:10 pm 

Joaquin: 😣You talked to my mom?!

2:15 pm 

You: 🖕Fuck off. You know Lydia likes me more than you. 

2:16 pm 

Joaquin: 💔

Savage. 

2:16 pm 

I’m jk. Mom told me how wonderful you’ve been with her and Dad. Thank you. 🙏

2:22 pm 

You: I’m just glad you’re okay. 

2:30 pm 

Joaquin: 😅

2:30 pm 

You: Can I call you later? 

2:31 pm 

Joaquin: Yeah :)

*

You’ve never been this girl: the girl that waits by the phone for some guy to text her.

But in the days following Joaquin’s accident, you have to remind yourself that the fact that you’re practically glued to your phone waiting for updates is just a result of the fact that you could’ve lost him. 

Besides, he’s not just some guy. It’s Joaquin: he’s the neighborhood kid you grew up with, the sweet seventeen year-old boy who took you to your senior prom, and the man that both of your mothers still swear to this day that you’ll marry. 

It’s Captain America—Sam, he insists that you call him—who eventually puts you out of your misery by inviting you to see Joaquin, when he notices his wingman’s recovery is going better and better all thanks to his mysterious pen pal. 

“I know kids these days can’t get off their phones, but something’s telling me there’s a cute girl on the other end, Buck,” Sam mentions over the phone one day, when the latter asks him about Joaquin’s recovery. “Hey, I’m not mad at it! Seems like it’s helping him.”

“Kid’s gotta girl?” Bucky asks from somewhere along the campaign trail, a hint of curiosity in his voice as he inquires further. “There’s only one way to find out,” Sam shrugs with a little mischief in his voice. 

It’s not hard to swipe Joaquin’s phone, considering his recovery still requires lots and lots of rest. The last thing you had expected that day was a call from Captain America himself—from Joaquin’s phone, no less—asking you to come to DC to reunite with your childhood friend. 

What’s even more shocking is the fact that it’s Sam Wilson himself, who’s there to meet you at the hospital. You try to keep your cool as you introduce yourself, but you can’t shake the giddy feeling of excitement that fills you upon meeting the Avenger you and Joaquin used to see on TV. He leads you down the long hospital hallways, warning you quietly that Joaquin was pretty badly injured, and he may have a little more wear and tear than you expected. 

You don’t mean to gasp, but your sharp intake of breath upon seeing him in his hospital bed isn’t exactly subtle. Your eyes trace over him worriedly, as you take in the burn scars on his neck and the still-healing cuts and scrapes on his face. It’s the moment you realize that, since making the choice to join The Avengers, your superhero friend is not so invincible. 

“What’re you-?” Joaquin balks, speechless at the sight of you. He looks from you to Sam, then back to you, before returning to Sam once more, his eyes landing on the man like he’s Benedict Arnold. “Sam, you didn’t-. How did you-? You called her?!” 

“Wasn’t hard to swipe your phone when you need a nap every 2 hours,” Sam replies casually, as if he isn’t acting like the world’s most embarrassing dad right now. “And I got tired of watching you wait by the phone all day for your girl to finally text you.”

“Oh my god!” Joaquin groans, at the very same time you let out a:

“Oh he’s not my-!” 

“Dude, we’re not-,” Joaquin gestures towards you in a panic, as he searches for the right words, saying a silent prayer that he can get out at least one full-finished sentence. “I’m not like, waiting by the phone but It’s not like I can go anywhere right now, man!” Sam chuckles only to be met with a very dramatic eye roll from Joaquin as he tries to defend himself. 

“Listen, we’re old friends. We’ve just been catching up,” he tries to explain again, gesturing towards you once more. 

Sam smirks, uttering an unconvinced, “Sure. Well, whoever she is or isn’t to you… seems like she’s been helping your recovery. Thought it couldn’t hurt.” 

You laugh, exchanging a look with Joaquin. 

“I still can’t believe you called her,” Joaquin shakes his head, still trying his best to process this. 

“Well, of course he called me, Torres, considering you’ve always been shit at asking for help,” you finally chime in, with a ball-busting attitude he’s missed. 

“Oh shit,” Sam says, looking from you back to Joaquin as he waits for a reaction. 

Joaquin grins, gearing up to explain: “When she feels threatened, she has a tendency to lash out.” 

Sam chuckles. 

“Feisty. I like it," he smirks with a nod of approval. And he knows that this that’s his cue. It’s time to give you kids some time alone. “Imma step out for a second. You guys… catch up. Or whatever.” 

You press your lips together, stifling another laugh, and waiting a beat as Sam disappears. 

“Dude,” you start, taking a few steps closer to Joaquin, with a look of disbelief.

“Dude,” Joaquin mimics you, unable to hide the smile on his face upon seeing you. 

“That’s like… Captain America,” you nod towards the hallway as you take a few more steps forward. 

“I know,” Joaquin says back, an excitement between the two of you. 

“Captain fucking America,” you emphasize.. 

You’ve really been doing the best to keep your cool, but you’re not sure you can contain it any longer. 

“I know!” he fanboys with you this time, because Joaquin still can’t believe this is real either. 

That he works with Sam Wilson. That he’s Captain America’s wingman. That you’re here, in DC, with him. 

It’s as if a piece of home has joined him for the first time in a long time in this new chapter of his life. 

The two of you exchange another smile and a wave of relief washes over you. 

You take a beat and one step closer to him, sitting down in the chair next to his hospital bed. You shake your head and this time, the expression on your face goes from soft to a much more hardened and worried look. 

“Joaquin,” you start, the tone of your voice a warning enough. 

“Oh God,” he sighs, recognizing that tone. 

“I could kill you,” you threaten, the next part reinforcing his more than accurate evaluation of you from earlier. “But clearly you don’t need my help.” 

“Well, I did technically die,” he parries, light heartedly. 

“Joaquin!” You interject, your voice going up in pitch as you cut him off. 

“What? You scared you’d miss me or something?” he teases, meeting your fire with his. 

“Oh fuck off,” you scoff, with a shake of your head. “It’s not-, don’t joke about that! It’s not funny!” 

“Didn’t you just threaten me with-?” he continues, knowing all the buttons to press. 

“Yeah, but it’s different when I-. Didn’t you just say that I have a tendency of lashing out when I feel threatened?” you snap, the worry in your voice enough to get him to stop. 

You sigh, your eyes scanning him once more, because maybe it would be easier if he really were invincible.

You take a beat, and the two of you share a full silence between you. It’s comfortable, yet filled with ‘what ifs’ neither of you want to acknowledge. 

“I can’t believe Sam stole my phone and called you,” Joaquin shakes his head this time, groaning again because Captain America really should be renamed to America’s Most Embarrassing Dad for this. “How did you get here so fast, anyway? My parents won’t even arrive till tomorrow.” 

“Oh I uh-. Well, you’ve been busy saving the world so I haven’t exactly been able to tell you,” you reply, realizing that it hadn’t even come up in conversation via text yet. “I moved to Philly a few months ago.” 

“Philly?” Joaquin asks, a little surprised, because he’s not sure he could picture you anywhere that has a properly cold Winter season. “Yeah,” you chuckle, immediately recognizing his look. “I had to buy my first Winter coat this year but… the trade off is that I’m only an hour train ride away from you now.”

His face lights up as soon as you spell it out for him. 

“Well, my parents are coming in tomorrow. Are you-, think you’ll be around?” he asks, hopefully. 

“Do you want me to be?” you ask in return. 

He nods, “Yeah. Think they’d like to see you.” “Okay,” you agree softly. “I’ll stay.” 

A beat. 

And another silence between the two of you, one that feels much heavier than the last. 

“You could’ve died, Joaquin,” you state quietly. 

“I know,” he replies, the guilt evident in his voice. 

You could’ve-,” you begin to repeat, your voice breaking this time. 

“I know,” he says again, much firmer as he reassures you. “But I didn’t. And we’re here now.” 

He reaches for your hand, and you’re almost angry with the way your body betrays you. With tears in your eyes you look back at him, shaking your head. 

“Goddamit,” you swear with a small laugh. “You’re the one who gets hurt yet you’re here comforting me.”

He shakes his head this time, squeezing your hand as he smiles, “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.” A beat. “But I’m still gonna kill Sam.”

You laugh, wiping a few tears out of your eyes with your free hand. 

“And yeah. I would,” you finally admit, your voice soft. 

“Hm?” Joaquin asks, his lashes heavy as he blinks, taking you in. 

“I would really, really miss you,” you answer, a vulnerability in your voice this time that you’re quick to put an end to. “So don’t fucking do this shit again!” 

Joaquin laughs as he squeezes your hand once more, knowing it’s not a promise he can make to either of you. 

*

9:45 am 

Joaquin: Mom and Dad left yesterday and Mom told me to tell you that she misses you already. 

10:01 am 

You: You can just admit that you miss me already. 

10:03 am 

Joaquin: 🤐

Thanks though. I think they’re a little less worried now that they know you’re close by. 

10:08 am 

You: How’s it going? 

10:13 am 

Joaquin: Good! I got discharged a few days ago and am heading to Wakanda in a few weeks. 

New suit! 🦸

The last time you see me can’t be in a hospital gown. 

10:15 am 

You: I don’t know why you’d say that! It’s a great look for you. 

10:20 am 

Joaquin: 🙄

Guess I should’ve swiped one from the hospital to wear all the time.

What’re you doing next weekend? 

10:21 am 

You: Nothing. What’s up? 

10:30 am 

Joaquin: What do you think about me coming to Philly? 

10:31 am

You: To visit me? Or just because?

10:32 am Joaquin: Yes to visit you 😆

Thought we could hang out before I go.

10:33 am 

You: Yeah! I know it’s only an hour train ride in and out, but I’ve got a super comfy couch you can crash on if you want. 

So that’s an option. 

The next text you receive is a selfie of him, wearing a plain grey crewneck sweater. 

You laugh. The guy loves a good selfie. 

10:40 am

Joaquin: 1 photo attached

Rocky ain’t ready for this 

10:43 am 

You: LOL 

Please don’t tell me you’re coming to Philly so you can recreate the Rocky training montage.

And if you’re wondering, I will not be partaking. You’re on your own with that one. 

But yeah, I’d be happy to host you! 

10:48 am 

Joaquin: Deal. 

I’ll call you later. We can work out the details :) 

11:00 am 

You: Deal :)

[paxtito]

cough drop coloured tongue

pairings: tara x reader (no pronouns used)

word count: 3109

warnings: some swearing, nothing really

summary: you catch the flu and tara is gobsmacked (in a horny way) at how much your voice has changed

requested by: @burntoutghost

It started as a scratch in your throat—nothing major, just an annoying little itch that had you clearing your throat more than usual. You chalked it up to the cold weather, the dry air, or maybe even talking too much with Tara the night before.

By the next day, though, the scratch turned into something heavier. Your limbs ached, exhaustion creeping into your bones like an unwanted guest. You still went to class, still tried to act normal, but every blink lasted a second too long, and focusing felt like trying to see through fogged-up glass. Chad had side-eyed you in the hallway, wrinkling her nose.

“Dude, you look rough,” he had said, leaning away as if you might infect him with a single breath.

You had only groaned in response, leaning against your locker for support. Tara had texted you sometime around lunch—Meet me after your last class?—but your response had been delayed, fingers sluggish over your phone.

Feeling kinda shitty. Might just head back to my room.

Tara, being Tara, immediately responded.

Shitty how?

Idk, just tired. Think I’m getting sick.

Do you need anything?

You stared at your screen for a moment, lips twitching at the concern in her words.

Nah, I’m good. Just gonna sleep it off.

That was a mistake.

By the time the sun had set, the fatigue had turned into full-body exhaustion. Your head throbbed with every movement, and a tight congestion settled into your chest, making every breath feel like a chore. The tissues started piling up that night—just a few at first, crumpled on your nightstand. You slept in fits, waking up shivering one minute and burning up the next, twisting the blankets around you in a frustrated haze.

Tara called again in the morning. You ignored it. Not on purpose—you had barely registered the sound over the pounding in your skull.

By the second day, the fever had fully taken hold, and the sickness dragged you under like a riptide. Your phone was somewhere beside you, buzzing every so often, but lifting your arm to check it felt impossible. Tara’s name kept lighting up the screen.

And then, eventually, she called.

You groan, rolling over with a sluggish hand to grab it. She’s already called three times. Probably worried.

Pressing the phone to your ear, you croak out, “Hey.”

The other end of the line goes silent for a second. Then, a sharp inhale.

“Holy shit.”

You frown, rubbing your temple. “What?”

Tara clears her throat. “Uh, nothing. You just—you sound different.”

“Yeah, no shit. I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you mumble, voice thick with congestion, deeper, rougher than usual.

Tara definitely makes a noise at that. Something small. Sharp.

You barely register it, too focused on the pounding in your skull. “Sorry, I didn’t text back. I think my body’s literally shutting down.”

There’s another pause. Then, a suspiciously unsteady breath from Tara’s end.

“Babe,” she starts, voice an octave lower, almost sultry, but you’re too far gone to notice. “You—uh—you should really drink some tea. Might help… with your throat.”

“I tried,” you mumble, head sinking into the pillow. “Burned my tongue. Fuck tea.”

Tara lets out a strained laugh. “Right. Yeah. Uh—so, how sick are you exactly?”

“Very,” you groan. “I can barely move. Why?”

She’s quiet for a moment, and then, her voice is softer. “No reason.”

You sniffle, rolling onto your side. “I probably sound disgusting.”

Tara, who is gripping her phone a little too tightly, lets out a nervous chuckle. “No. Not at all.”

You hum in response, already halfway to passing out again. “Mmm. I miss you.”

Tara lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah,” she mutters. “Miss you too.”

You’re out before you hear the way her voice lingers.

You come back to yourself slowly, your eyes fluttering open as you hear knocking at the door. It takes a moment for your brain to register the sound, still fogged up with feverish haze. You groan, rolling onto your back and blinking against the sunlight filtering through your curtains.

The knocking comes again, more insistent this time. "Hey, you awake?" Tara calls out, voice muffled by the door between you.

You open your mouth to respond, but it comes out as a strangled croak. Your throat feels like it's on fire. "Yeah," you rasp out, voice barely above a whisper. "Just a sec."

You heave yourself up to sitting with great difficulty, bones creaking in protest. Your room spins a little as you swing your legs over the side of the bed. You sit there for a moment, head hanging between your shoulders, until the dizziness passes.

Shuffling to the door, you unlock it and crack it open. Tara stands on the other side, a look of concern etched on her face. She's holding a tray with a steaming mug and a plate of food.

"Hey," she says softly, brown eyes searching yours. "How are you feeling?"

You give a weak smile. "Awful. But better than yesterday, I think."

Tara frowns slightly, stepping into your room and shutting the door behind her. She sets the tray down on your desk and comes to stand in front of you, reaching out to feel your forehead.

"You're still so hot," she murmurs, frowning at the heat radiating off your skin. "I brought you some soup and tea. Figured you might need it."

You lean into her touch, nuzzling her palm. "Thanks," you mumble, voice rough and gravelly. "You didn't have to do that."

Tara shrugs, sliding her hand down to cup your cheek. "Of course I did. You're sick, dummy."

You huff out a weak laugh at that. Tara takes a step closer, until you're sharing the same air. You notice how her gaze lingers on your face for a long moment before flicking down to your lips.

"How about you sit down and eat something before the soup gets cold?" Tara suggests, voice a little strained. She clears her throat, pulling back and gesturing to the desk.

You sink back down onto the bed, moving slowly and deliberately to avoid jostling your aching body too much. Tara watches you with a mix of concern and... something else. Something you're too out of it to fully recognize just yet.

Settling yourself against the wall, you pull the tray onto your lap, eyeing the steaming mug of tea and bowl of soup. Tara sits down beside you, close enough that your legs are brushing against each other.

"Thanks for bringing this," you murmur, wrapping your hands around the mug. The heat seeps into your chill-prone fingers, and you sigh at the small comfort. You take a sip, wincing slightly at the heat, but welcoming the way it soothes your raw throat.

Tara watches you, lips pressed together. You glance at her and catch her gaze lingering on your mouth, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She clears her throat and looks away.

"Feel free to stay as long as you want," you offer, voice a low, rough rasp. "I could use the company."

Tara swallows hard, nodding. "Yeah. I... I want to be here for you."

You frown slightly, noticing the way her voice dips, the blush deepening. She's acting strangely, but you're too focused on not falling back asleep to think much of it.

"How's your throat feeling?" she asks softly, inching a bit closer to you.

You shrug, taking another sip of tea before answering. "'S okay. Better than yesterday. Still hurts though."

Tara nods, eyes flicking down to your lips again. She's quiet for a long moment before speaking.

"You sound... different," she says, voice barely above a whisper. There's a hitch in her breath at the end of the sentence.

"Yeah, I know," you rasp out, voice low and gravelly. "Guess it's from the sickness."

Tara swallows hard, and you finally notice the way she's looking at you, really look at her. The flush on her cheeks, the dilation of her pupils, the quick pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.

"Guess so," she breathes out, eyes still locked on your face

You study Tara's face, noticing the way her chest is rising and falling a little faster than usual, the flush that seems to be spreading down her neck. Something about her demeanor is setting off alarm bells in your foggy mind.

"Because you're acting weird," you point out, voice a low, concerned rumble. "And you keep staring at my mouth."

Tara's eyes fly up to meet yours, widening in surprise. She swallows hard, a visible gulp in her throat. For a moment, she looks flustered, at a loss for words.

"I... I didn't realize I was..." she starts, before trailing off. She clears her throat, looking away. "I'm just worried about you. You're really sick, and I want to make sure you're okay."

You narrow your eyes, not entirely convinced. "Tara, what's going on? Is there something you're not telling me?"

Tara takes a deep breath, and when she turns back to you, there's a new intensity in her eyes. A heat that makes your stomach flip, even through the haze of sickness.

"It's just... your voice," she says softly, slowly. "It's... really sexy like this. All low and rough..." She blushes deeply, looking mortified as soon as the words leave her mouth.

Your eyes widen, finally understanding the undercurrent of her behavior. A slow smirk spreads across your face, even as your cheeks flush with warmth.

"Oh, I see," you murmur, voice a low, husky rasp. "Well, I am a little bit dying, after all. Guess that's making me extra irresistible, huh?"

Tara's eyes widen, and she lets out a shaky laugh. "I... I didn't mean to be so blunt. That was really inappropriate of me to say out loud."

You shrug, taking another sip of tea. "Hey, no worries. I'm just happy you find me attractive, even when I'm a gross, sick mess."

Tara bites her lip, glancing at you from under her lashes. "You could never be a mess to me. Sick, yes. But never a mess."

You both end up sprawled out on the bed together, the TV flickering in front of you. Tara keeps shifting, tossing a pillow behind her back, before leaning forward to grab the remote and flip through channels.

You're too tired and fuzzy-headed to really pay attention to the screen, but you can feel the restless energy rolling off Tara in waves. She's practically vibrating, and you glance over at her with a furrowed brow.

"Hey, you okay?" you ask, voice a low rasp. "You seem... tense."

Tara startles, glancing over at you. She forces a smile, but it's strained at the edges.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assures you quickly. "Just... wanna find something good to watch."

You shrug, sinking back against the pillows. "Whatever you want. I'm too out of it to care much."

Tara nods, but she's still fidgeting. You notice her eyes flick down to your lips again before darting away. There's a heat in her gaze that wasn't there before, and you suddenly feel a little warm under your blanket.

You're about to comment on it when Tara suddenly sits up straight, pointing at the TV.

"Hey, they're playing one of your favorite movies!" she exclaims, grabbing the remote. "Want me to put it on?"

You squint at the screen, trying to make out the title. It's one of those cheesy horror flicks you love, the kind with a campy plot and over-the-top kills. You smirk slightly.

"Sure. Why not," you rasp out, shrugging. "Might as well enjoy it, since I'm stuck in bed anyway."

Tara nods and hits play, flopping back down on the bed beside you. She's a little too close, her shoulder brushing against yours. You glance over at her and notice her gaze is glued to the screen, but there's a faraway look in her eyes.

You're about to ask her if she's sure she's okay when she suddenly turns to you, chewing on her bottom lip. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and her cheeks are flushed.

"Hey..." she starts softly, voice barely above a whisper. "Can I... can I ask you something?"

You frown slightly, noticing the way her breathing has picked up. "Of course. What's up?"

You blink slowly as Tara turns to face you fully, her brown eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. Even through the sickness fogging your mind, you can sense the shift in the air between you, the electricity crackling like a live wire.

"What's on your mind?" you ask softly, voice a low rasp. Your words come out slower, more deliberate than you intended. Maybe it's the fever, or maybe it's the way Tara's gaze is burning into you, but you feel suddenly self-conscious, hyper-aware of every movement.

Tara takes a deep breath, and you watch as she swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing in her throat. She's looking at you like... like she wants to devour you whole. It's a look you've seen before, but never this intense, this hungry.

"I was just thinking about... well, your voice," she says quietly, almost hesitantly. "It's just... different. Really deep and rough and... sexy. Even more so than usual."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you feel your cheeks heat under your sickly pallor. You're pretty sure you'm blushing, and the realization makes your head spin.

"Oh," you murmur, at a momentary loss for words. "I guess the sickness is doing weird things to me."

Tara nods, and you notice her tongue dart out to wet her lips. "Yeah. I guess it is."

There's a charged pause, and you're suddenly very aware of every inch of space between you. Tara's knee is brushing against yours, her shoulder pressed to your arm. The heat of her is seeping into you, and it's making your head swim in a way that has nothing to do with the fever.

"And I was thinking..." Tara starts again, a little breathlessly. "Maybe... maybe you could read to me? Like, from that comic you like so much? I want to hear more of your... voice."

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you blink slowly, trying to process her request. You're not sure if it's the sickness or the way Tara is looking at you, but you feel like you're drowning, pulled under by the intensity of her gaze.

"Okay," you breathe out, voice a low rasp. "If you want."

You start to read from the comic, your low, rough voice filling the room. But as you flip through the pages, you can't help but notice that Tara seems distracted. Her eyes are glazed over, not really focusing on the illustrations. Instead, she's staring at you, her gaze heavy and intense.

You pause, glancing up at her with a frown. "Everything okay? You seem... elsewhere."

Tara blinks, coming back to herself. She shakes her head, a little smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm fine. Your voice is just... really nice. It's hard to focus on anything else."

You feel a blush spreading across your cheeks, and you duck your head, focusing on the comic pages. "Sorry. I don't want to bore you."

"No, no, not at all," Tara assures you quickly. She's quiet for a moment before speaking again, her voice a little hesitant. "Can I... can I be honest with you?"

You glance up at her, eyebrows raised. "Of course. Always."

Tara takes a deep breath, and you watch as she seems to steel herself. "I just... I really want to kiss you right now. Like, really, really want to."

Your eyes widen, and you feel your heart stutter in your chest. "Oh," you breathe out, at a momentary loss for words. "Tara, I... I'm really sick right now. I don't want to get you sick too."

"I know," Tara says softly, reaching out to touch your cheek. Her fingers are warm against your skin, and you lean into the touch instinctively. "I just... I can't help it. You're just so... you're irresistible like this."

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "I appreciate it, but... I don't want to risk it. Especially with how bad this cold is."

Tara nods, a little sadly. "I understand. I do. I just... I wanted you to know how much I... I want you."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel a wave of emotion wash over you. Tara is looking at you with such raw, naked desire, it's overwhelming. You cover her hand with your own, squeezing it gently.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice a low rasp. "That means a lot to me. More than you know."

You blink slowly, trying to process Tara's bold words. A small, surprised laugh escapes your lips, turning into a cough as it catches in your sore throat. Tara looks a little sheepish, but there's still a determined glint in her eye.

"A little peck can't hurt, right?" she asks hopefully, a small smile playing on her lips. "And then, once you're all better... I'm totally jumping your bones. Consider it a promise."

You gape at her for a moment before a slow, stunned grin spreads across your face. "Wow, you're... wow," you rasp out, shaking your head in disbelief. "Okay. One little peck. And then... I guess we'll see what happens when I'm feeling better."

Tara grins, her eyes sparkling with excitement and anticipation. She leans in slowly, and you feel your heart start to race as she gets closer. Your eyes flutter shut instinctively, and you hold your breath in anticipation.

Softly, gently, Tara's lips brush against yours in the lightest of kisses. It's over in an instant, but it sends a shiver down your spine nonetheless. Tara pulls back, a satisfied smile on her face.

"Mm. Can't wait for that promise," she murmurs, her voice a low, husky rumble.

You open your eyes, blinking up at her dazedly. "Wow," you breathe out again, still trying to process the moment. "That was... wow."

Tara chuckles, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Her fingers linger on your cheek, and you lean into the touch.

"Get some rest," she whispers, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone. "You need it. And then... then we'll see about that other stuff."

She leans in to press another feather-light kiss to your forehead before settling back against the pillows, pulling you with her until your head is resting on her shoulder. You feel yourself starting to drift off, lulled by the warmth of her body and the promise of things to come.

[transmcytshowdown]

Joel Smallishbeans^16:

Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

“He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

“First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl).”

Oli OrionSound^16:

Empires SMP Season 2, Pirates SMP, New Life SMP, Afterlife SMP

Trans man, he/they

“That freak is transfem, trust [the submitter]. [Their] source is divine knowledge and [their] ownership of the transfemoliorionsound url.”

“HIS PRONOUNS ARE SHE/HER.”

“[The submitter has] successfully cracked at least three eggs with the power of transfem Oli TheOrionSound, if she loses [they] will CRY.”

“Look at this cubito and then tell [the submitter] he doesn't participate in every type of gender shenanigans and tomfoolery. His pronouns are hee/hee.”

[fanged-fanfics]

Headcanon of the beast cookies and the reader who was the only cookie who was able to brew ambrosia? Both before and after corruption. (Headcanon name for this reader cookie is Ambrosia Cookie)

☆ Sweet Like Saccharine — Beast Cookies x GN Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: I avoided using pronouns for Eternal Sugar and Silent Salt Cookie since they both don't have confirmed genders, and since they're unreleased I'm basically guessing their personalities

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Burning Spice loved using your talents for celebrations. He's an extremely prideful Cookie, and the ambrosia you brewed was better than anything on Earthbread. He always made sure to order in whole jugs of it, especially for when he won over Golden Cheese

ᯓᡣ𐭩 As the Herald of Change, he used your drinks as a sort of pick-me-up. Whenever he was stewing in his turmoil, a bottle of ambrosia with you was his favorite way of relaxing, if only for a while

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eternal Sugar would use your gifts to bond. A quiet moment with you shared over praising your talent was a great way to get closer, especially when Sugar could laze around drinking with you rather than working

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Before becoming a beast, Eternal Sugar would almost always take time off to just drink with you. A moment of calm, Sugar lounging around and consuming all Sugar can in the carved out free time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Silent Salt always drinks right before a fight. Salt's concentration is always so sharp that not even the strongest wine could dull it, so Silent Salt deemed it harmless to indulge just a little

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Even when Silent Salt wasn't known as an amethyst knight, Silent would use your talent to keep busy when in a noisy situation that Silent didn't want to be in. Silent would also stay right by your side, being a social shield for you so no one could bother you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Mystic Flour essentially never drinks, but she remembers receiving your bottles fondly and never turns down ambrosia when it's offered. Though she has to be careful not to open her eyes, or it would immediately sour

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Back when she was granting gifts, your ambrosia was what she'd always adore the most. It was an offering that she gladly accepted, rejuvenating her just a little longer to push through the day

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Shadow Milk would basically drink for any reason. To celebrate, when bummed out, for really any excuse he felt deserved it. Ambrosia is sweeter and richer than anything on Earthbread, so of course he wanted to indulge whenever possible

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Before lies and deceit became all he knew, he used to split it with you over work. It'd be a way to try and work through the realization of existence together. A dull cure, but something that helped nevertheless

[clytemnestradidnothingwrong]

I've got thoughts on this article that I'm going to share whether anyone likes it or not.

"When my first son claimed he was trans, I eagerly ‘affirmed’ him. When his three-year-old brother decided he wanted to be trans, too, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake."

Gay and "transgender" are opposing concepts, and this is one of the many things that prove it. When a sibling comes out a gay, you don't usually have another sibling following.

"My friends and I felt like we were the cool kids, on the vanguard of the revolutionary wave that would change the world. We were going to achieve what people in that milieu call “collective liberation.”

I used to think this was admirable and that people like this were just misled, but the more I gain exposure to these types, the more I think no, they're not really that well intentioned. A lot of this modern "social justice activism" just seems to be unearned hero complexes. Are you really so self-absorbed that you think asking people to say pronouns is truly going to save the world?

"Having children and experiencing the love and devotion I felt toward them, was a game changer for me. I began to experience internal tensions. My thinking was split between what I felt instinctively as a mother; and what I “should” be feeling and doing as a white anti-racist social-justice parent."

As much as SJW types annoy me, I do think it's a real shame that "social justice" has just become another sniff-your-own-farts movement instead of I-actually-care-about-other-people movement. Just feeds into my theory that humans by nature are not good. I'm also sick of everyone asking us to repress our instincts in favor of embracing whatever narrative is trendy.

"Because I’d felt victimized by my parents’ rejection of my sexuality, I wanted to make sure to honor my own children’s “authentic” selves. In particular, I was primed to look for any clues that might suggest they could be transgender."

This is what everyone's doing now, and it's disturbing. Fake woke parents like this who immerse themselves in faux social justice are convinced "trans" people are the world's most oppressed group, and are thus constantly on the alert for any signs of being "trans". If "trans" people hadn't killed the feminist movement and gay rights community, these kids would just be allowed to be themselves. Especially because a lot of traits that everyone believes now means "transgender" actually mean gay. Whether they realize it or not (and tbh I think many do deep down), these pretend liberals have primed everyone to sniff out signs of homosexuality so that modern medicine can "fix" it through "gender affirming care".

"My spouse and I raised our sons with gender-neutral clothes, toys, and language. While we used he/him pronouns, and others called them boys, we did not call them boys, or even tell them that they were boys. In our everyday reading of books or descriptions of people in our lives, we did not say “man” or “woman”; we said “people.” We thought we were doing the right thing, both for them and for the world."

My coworker does this. She has a son and she calls him "he", but she won't ever refer to him as her son or as a boy. People have deluded themselves into thinking this does something good, but all it does is make it harder to acknowledge reality.

"Even when our first son was still young, he already struck us as different from other boys—being both extremely gifted and unusually sensitive. By age three or so, he started to orient more toward the females in his life than the males. “I like the mamas,” he would say. We started to attribute some of this difference to the possibility that he was transgender."

To me, this reveals the inherent misogyny of trans activists. The idea that a boy can't prefer being around girls instead of others boys is misogyny.

"Instead of orienting him toward the reality of his biological sex by telling him he was a boy, we wanted him to tell us if he felt he was a boy or a girl. As true believers, we thought that we should “follow his lead” to determine his true identity."

"Trans" kids are like vegan cats - they are made, not born.

"At the same time, I was taking a deep dive into the field of attachment and child development. This made me understand that attachment is hierarchical; and that parents, not children, are meant to be in the lead. This obviously conflicted with my insistence on letting my child decide his gender. Sadly, it was the latter impulse that won the day."

You would think anyone who is familiar with child psychology at all would understand the child should never lead, but that would be underestimating the power of group think.

"I told him, “When babies are born with a penis, they are called boys, and when babies are born with a vagina, they are called girls. But some babies who are born with a penis can be girls, and some babies born with a vagina can be boys. It all depends on what you feel deep inside."

Every time I hear or see this "what matters is how you feel!" bullshit, I wonder what less individualistic cultures think when they read it. Because when you take a step back and look at it objectively, it comes off as incredibly self-centered.

"He continued to ask me what he was, and I continued to repeat these lines. I’d resolved my inner conflict by “leading” my son with this framework. Or so I told myself."

Rationalizing the irrational. If she had taken a step back, maybe she would've realized she only made him more confused, which is what leaves children vulnerable to the abuse that is "gender affirming care".

"His question, and my response to it, would come back to haunt me. In fact, I remain haunted to this day. To the extent I was “leading” my son anywhere, it was down a path of lies—an on-ramp to psychological damage and irreversible medical interventions. All in the name of love, acceptance, and liberation."

Again, I'm beyond disgusted about how twisted the "progressive" movement became. I'm disgusted by how ALL well intentioned movements so quickly descend into something evil.

"On the way home that night, I resolved to put all my own feelings away and support my transgender child. And that is what I did."

A "trans" kid of your own making.

"We told him he could be a girl. He jumped up and down on the bed, happily saying, “I’m a girl, I’m a girl!” We—not our son—initiated changing his name."

I wonder if you (or any trans activist) ever considered that maybe he was so excited to be a "girl" because you told him he could be after he spent years asking you what he was.

"We socially transitioned him and enforced this transition with his younger brother, who was then only two years old and could barely pronounce his older brother’s real name."

That's pretty fucked up that you tried to force this crap on a 2 year old, actually.

"When I look back at this, it is almost too much to write about. How could a mother do this to her child? To her children?"

I ask myself this every time I see a mother "transition" her child. The answer is almost always CLOUT.

"Once we made this decision, we received resounding praise and affirmation from most of our peers."

See?

"One of my friends, who’d also socially transitioned her young child, assured me that this was a healthy, neutral way to allow children to “explore” their gender identity before puberty, when decisions would have to be made about puberty blockers and hormones."

From an outside-of-the-cult standpoint, this makes no sense. He's not exploring anything. You've locked him in.

"We sought out support groups for parents of transgender children, so that we could find out if we’d done the “right thing.” It hadn’t escaped my notice that our son hadn’t exhibited any signs of actual gender dysphoria. Was he actually transgender?"

No. Nobody is.

"At these support groups, we were told, again, what good parents we were."

There's that clout as a reward again.

"We were also told that kids on the autism spectrum (which our son likely is) are gender savants who simply know they are transgender earlier than other kids."

Well, this explains how they justify butchering autistic children. Talk about rebooting the Indigo Child.

"At one of the support groups we attended, we were also told that transgender identity takes a few years to develop in children. The gender therapist running things told us that during this period, it’s important to protect the child’s transgender self-conception—which meant eliminating all contact with family or friends who didn’t support the idea that our son was a girl. I believed her."

This is such an INSANE thing to tell your clients, holy shit, that therapist should be FIRED.

"Looking back, I now see her comments in a shockingly different light: this was part of an intentional process of concretizing transgender identity in children who are much too young to know themselves in any definitive way. (One set of parents attending the group had a child who was just three years old.) When identity is “affirmed” in this manner, children will grow up believing they are actually the opposite sex."

Exactly. There's no "exploration of gender" or "finding yourself" at all. It's creating a "transgender" child out of thin air.

"The therapist endorsed the same approach that many adolescents use on their parents, who are urged to write letters to grandparents, aunts, and uncles to announce the child’s transgender identity. In these letters, the conditions of continued social engagement are made clear: Recipients must use the new name and new pronouns, and embrace the new identity, or they will be denied contact with the child."

Can someone who isn't in the trans cult explain to me how this ISN'T manipulative, borderline abuse?

"His claim to be a girl became more insistent when both brothers went to school part-time, because their program included pronoun sharing. Why could the older sibling be a “she” when the younger sibling couldn’t? Our younger son became more insistent, and we became more distressed."

He saw the attention and affection his brother was getting and wanted it for himself. That's it. That's the explanation.

"We made an appointment to see the gender therapist whom we’d met at the support group. We truly believed that she would be able to help us sort out who, if anyone, was actually transgender. To our shock, the therapist immediately began referring to our younger son as “she,” stating that whatever pronouns a young child wants to use are the pronouns that must be used."

Oh honey, their livelihood depends on transing people. They're never going to say "no, you're not trans".

"When I pushed back and asserted that I wasn’t yet convinced our younger son was in fact transgender, she told me that if I failed to change his pronouns and honor his newly announced identity, he could develop an attachment disorder."

Oh, I'd love to see the evidence for this claim, because it sounds like bullshit.

"For the next two years, my partner and I dug deeper, agonized, and then continued digging again. Everything we thought we knew or believed that had led us to socially transition our older son began to unravel."

Feels like leaving a cult, huh?

"In the days following my first conversation with him about going back to his birth name and pronouns, during which I told him that males cannot be females and that we were wrong to tell him he could choose to be a girl, he got very mad at me, then sad. Then, the next day, I felt my son rest. I felt him release a burden, an adult burden that he, as a child, was never meant to carry."

You'll never convince me there's such thing as a "transgender child". Only an abused child.

"Since that time, we’ve all been healing. My son is now happy and thriving. We’ve watched him come to a deeper peace with himself as a boy."

What these evil, greedy butchers don't tell you is that if you had never been exposed to the regressive concept of "transgender", this never would've happened, and these "trans" kids would've just grown up to be unique boys and girls. "Transgender" takes the innocence and health away from children, and I'll never forgive those demons for inventing it. Good for her for getting her and her family out of this cult.

"I feel like someone who’s escaped a cult—a cult whose belief system is supported by our mainstream culture, the Internet, and even the state."

Cults aren't just confined to small towns or ranches in the middle of nowhere.

"I fear for the future—the future of sensitive, feminine, socially awkward boys. I fear what the world will tell them about who they are."

The fact that gay and disabled kids are being led down this path of medical experimentation and lies absolutely disgusts me. You can call me mean, you can say I'm awful and hateful, but at the end of the day, I'm not the one telling people they were born wrong.

May this mother and her sons find peace.

By: Anonymous

Published: Oct 16, 2023

When my first son claimed he was trans, I eagerly ‘affirmed’ him. When his three-year-old brother decided he wanted to be trans, too, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake.

I was a social-justice organizer and facilitator before social justice took over the progressive world. I was at the nascent movement’s forefront, introducing the concept of intersectionality to organizations and asking people to share their pronouns.

My friends and I felt like we were the cool kids, on the vanguard of the revolutionary wave that would change the world. We were going to achieve what people in that milieu call “collective liberation.”

Within this context, I came out as a lesbian and identified as queer. I also fell in love, entered a committed relationship, and gave birth to a son. Two years later, my spouse gave birth to our second son.

Having children and experiencing the love and devotion I felt toward them, was a game changer for me. I began to experience internal tensions. My thinking was split between what I felt instinctively as a mother; and what I “should” be feeling and doing as a white anti-racist social-justice parent.

Because I’d felt victimized by my parents’ rejection of my sexuality, I wanted to make sure to honor my own children’s “authentic” selves. In particular, I was primed to look for any clues that might suggest they could be transgender.

My spouse and I raised our sons with gender-neutral clothes, toys, and language. While we used he/him pronouns, and others called them boys, we did not call them boys, or even tell them that they were boys.

In our everyday reading of books or descriptions of people in our lives, we did not say “man” or “woman”; we said “people.” We thought we were doing the right thing, both for them and for the world.

Even when our first son was still young, he already struck us as different from other boys—being both extremely gifted and unusually sensitive. By age three or so, he started to orient more toward the females in his life than the males. “I like the mamas,” he would say.

We started to attribute some of this difference to the possibility that he was transgender. Instead of orienting him toward the reality of his biological sex by telling him he was a boy, we wanted him to tell us if he felt he was a boy or a girl. As true believers, we thought that we should “follow his lead” to determine his true identity.

At the same time, I was taking a deep dive into the field of attachment and child development. This made me understand that attachment is hierarchical; and that parents, not children, are meant to be in the lead. This obviously conflicted with my insistence on letting my child decide his gender. Sadly, it was the latter impulse that won the day.

At around age four, my son began to ask me if he was a boy or a girl. I told him he could choose. I didn’t use those words—I imagined that I was taking a more sophisticated approach. I told him, “When babies are born with a penis, they are called boys, and when babies are born with a vagina, they are called girls. But some babies who are born with a penis can be girls, and some babies born with a vagina can be boys. It all depends on what you feel deep inside.”

He continued to ask me what he was, and I continued to repeat these lines. I’d resolved my inner conflict by “leading” my son with this framework. Or so I told myself.

His question, and my response to it, would come back to haunt me. In fact, I remain haunted to this day. To the extent I was “leading” my son anywhere, it was down a path of lies—an on-ramp to psychological damage and irreversible medical interventions. All in the name of love, acceptance, and liberation.

About six months later, he told my spouse that he was a girl and wanted to be called “sister” and “she/her.” I received a text message about this at work. On the way home that night, I resolved to put all my own feelings away and support my transgender child. And that is what I did.

We told him he could be a girl. He jumped up and down on the bed, happily saying, “I’m a girl, I’m a girl!” We—not our son—initiated changing his name. We socially transitioned him and enforced this transition with his younger brother, who was then only two years old and could barely pronounce his older brother’s real name.

When I look back at this, it is almost too much to write about. How could a mother do this to her child? To her children?

Once we made this decision, we received resounding praise and affirmation from most of our peers. One of my friends, who’d also socially transitioned her young child, assured me that this was a healthy, neutral way to allow children to “explore” their gender identity before puberty, when decisions would have to be made about puberty blockers and hormones.

We sought out support groups for parents of transgender children, so that we could find out if we’d done the “right thing.” It hadn’t escaped my notice that our son hadn’t exhibited any signs of actual gender dysphoria. Was he actually transgender?

At these support groups, we were told, again, what good parents we were. We were also told that kids on the autism spectrum (which our son likely is) are gender savants who simply know they are transgender earlier than other kids.

At one of the support groups we attended, we were also told that transgender identity takes a few years to develop in children. The gender therapist running things told us that during this period, it’s important to protect the child’s transgender self-conception—which meant eliminating all contact with family or friends who didn’t support the idea that our son was a girl. I believed her.

Looking back, I now see her comments in a shockingly different light: this was part of an intentional process of concretizing transgender identity in children who are much too young to know themselves in any definitive way. (One set of parents attending the group had a child who was just three years old.) When identity is “affirmed” in this manner, children will grow up believing they are actually the opposite sex.

The therapist endorsed the same approach that many adolescents use on their parents, who are urged to write letters to grandparents, aunts, and uncles to announce the child’s transgender identity. In these letters, the conditions of continued social engagement are made clear: Recipients must use the new name and new pronouns, and embrace the new identity, or they will be denied contact with the child.

After about a year of social transition for our older son, our younger son, who was by now only three years old, began to say he was a girl, too. This came as a complete shock to us. None of the things that made our older son “different” applied to our younger son. He was more of a stereotypical boy and didn’t show the same affinity for the feminine side of things that his older brother did.

The urge for “sameness” is a primal attachment drive in many family members. We felt that our younger son’s assertion of being a girl likely reflected his desire to be like his older sibling, in order to feel connected to him.

His claim to be a girl became more insistent when both brothers went to school part-time, because their program included pronoun sharing. Why could the older sibling be a “she” when the younger sibling couldn’t? Our younger son became more insistent, and we became more distressed.

We made an appointment to see the gender therapist whom we’d met at the support group. We truly believed that she would be able to help us sort out who, if anyone, was actually transgender.

To our shock, the therapist immediately began referring to our younger son as “she,” stating that whatever pronouns a young child wants to use are the pronouns that must be used.

She patronizingly assured us that it might take us more time to adjust, since parents have a hard time with this sort of thing. She added that it was transphobic to believe there was anything wrong with our younger son wanting to be like his older transgender sibling.

When I pushed back and asserted that I wasn’t yet convinced our younger son was in fact transgender, she told me that if I failed to change his pronouns and honor his newly announced identity, he could develop an attachment disorder.

We were unconvinced. But, again, we wanted to do what was right for our son and for the world. We decided to tell him he could be a girl. And that night at dinner, we told him that we would call him “she/her.”

Right after dinner, I went to play an imaginary game with him, and I wanted to be affirming. So I put a big, warm smile on my face and said, “Hi, my girl!”

At this, my younger son stopped, looked at me, and said, “No, mama. Don’t call me that.” His reaction pierced me to my core. I didn’t turn back after that.

For the next two years, my partner and I dug deeper, agonized, and then continued digging again. Everything we thought we knew or believed that had led us to socially transition our older son began to unravel.

I continued to study the attachment-based developmental approach to parenting and learned more about autism and hypersensitivity. We decided not to socially transition our younger son. Not only was he not transgender, we now realized, but our older son probably wasn’t either.

He was just a highly sensitive, likely autistic boy who saw a girl identity as a form of psychic protection. It also provided him a way of attaching to me through sameness.

My spouse and I decided that since we’d been the ones who’d led him down this path, we were the ones who needed to lead him off of it.

A year ago, just before our older son’s eighth birthday, we did just that. And while the initial change was hard—incredibly hard—the strongest emotion exhibited by our son turned out to be relief.

In the days following my first conversation with him about going back to his birth name and pronouns, during which I told him that males cannot be females and that we were wrong to tell him he could choose to be a girl, he got very mad at me, then sad. Then, the next day, I felt my son rest. I felt him release a burden, an adult burden that he, as a child, was never meant to carry.

Since that time, we’ve all been healing. My son is now happy and thriving. We’ve watched him come to a deeper peace with himself as a boy.  

Our younger son is also thriving. Once his older brother became his older brother again, he happily, and almost immediately, settled into his identity as a boy.

I feel like someone who’s escaped a cult—a cult whose belief system is supported by our mainstream culture, the Internet, and even the state.

I fear for the future—the future of sensitive, feminine, socially awkward boys. I fear what the world will tell them about who they are.

But no matter what the future holds, I will never ever stop fighting to protect my sons. I am no longer a true believer.

[ultimatelytired]

Lullaby pt. 2

word count: 10,231

Fandom: Poppy Playtime Pairing: N/A Pronouns: She/Her Relationship: Familial Occupation: Caretaker Ability: Ballerina Music Box

The character takes the appearance of a beautifully crafted music box ballerina figurine made of the toughest porcelain and glass, their clothes made from real fabric that is soft to touch and hair so smooth and silky you'd mistake it for real hair. Attached to their back is a wind up key that continuously spins when they're active and stops when they switch off. If the key is removed they cease to operate until key is returned and they are wound up again. Before CatNap, the character was the one to put the children to sleep with their built-in music box that would constantly be updated with new songs to play to help ease the children to sleep.

Keys:

[F/N]: Female Name

Warnings: the hour of joy, blood, death, all that shit.

"Lullaby" pt. 1

finally started using grammarly properly and started cleaning up my shit, i'm kind of happy about the outcome, though grammarly does tend to repeat a couple words.

I originally wanted to make this longer but I'll put in what I want in the next part.

that is all.

It was just like any other day.

Wake up.

Do a headcount during breakfast.

Guide the children to school.

Clean up around Home Sweet Home.

Entertain the Smiling Critters.

Play with the children after their lessons.

And so on and so forth. But a problem arose when she was in the middle of cleaning up Home Sweet Home. It was late at night, and the staff had missed a few things during their shift. Rather than wait for the morning crew, she decided to take care of it herself. Usually, a few lingering night guard employees would patrol Home Sweet Home while she "slept," taking over her job of monitoring the Playcare. But tonight, she was struggling to find them—or at least the one in charge.

"Where the hell is the night guard...?" she muttered to herself, standing on the second floor and looking over the railing to try and spot the man. A quiet breath left her lips when she still couldn't find him. She sighed, frustrated, her nails tapping against the oak beneath her fingers. Forget it—she'd find him later.

She moved on to the third level of Home Sweet Home, where the Smiling Critters resided. Peeking into their rooms, she nodded softly when she saw them all sound asleep. But when she opened CatNap's door—

"H-Help me..." Her eyes widened at the sight of one of the morning staff lying in a pool of their own blood, deep scratch marks gouged along their arms and face. Huh—no wonder she hadn’t seen them earlier that afternoon. Slowly, she lifted her eyes and found CatNap staring at her, shock clear in his gaze. He hadn’t expected her. Some of the red smoke escaped his mouth, though they both knew it didn’t work on her.

"P-Please save me..." the injured woman pleaded, grabbing Ballade's leg and trying to pull herself up. Ballade froze, her mind racing. Why did she have to walk in at this moment? Why now? This woman had been pestering CatNap all day to "open up," insisting she was "there for him." He’d ignored her until she cornered him in his room, and clearly, things had escalated.

What was Ballade going to do? Report this to the higher-ups? Send CatNap to the doctor to fix his violent outburst? Was she scared of him? There was nothing he could do to stop her. Despite being made before the Smiling Critters, Ballade’s model had been designed to handle toys the humans couldn’t control. He took a step back when he saw her glance down at the woman, her hand reaching out. He expected her to help her up—but instead, her hand crushed the woman’s head in one swift motion.

Ballade waited for the twitching to stop before she removed her hand, looking back up at CatNap. She smiled softly. Before she could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the room. She pressed a finger to her lips and gestured for him to stay quiet. Lifting the woman’s body by the neck, she stepped out and shut the door just as the night guard appeared.

"Ah, there you are, Balla—" He stopped, eyes widening at the sight of the dead body. "Why on earth do you have a corpse?" She shrugged.

"I thought she was an intruder and dealt with her the way the Head Executives told me to." He stared for a moment, then shrugged.

"Whatever, as long as you don't do that to me."

"You have a reason to be here overnight. She did not. I didn’t expect anyone but the nightguards to be here—and I know you wouldn’t sneak around like a rodent." She smiled sweetly as the woman’s bones cracked under her grip.

"R-Right... So, uh, what are you going to do with her body?"

"Feed her to Boxy. If the children ask why she’s missing, I’ll just say she’s sick and needs time to recover. Mister Pierre prefers it when I kill the staff—saves him money on wages."

"Sounds like him." The guard nodded. "Need any help?"

"I’ll manage. I’ll be back once the body’s disposed of." With a polite bow of her head, she turned away. Noticing the guard linger near CatNap's door, she held her breath—but he simply shook his head and walked off in the opposite direction. "Perhaps I should thank CatNap. Now I get to see Boxy Boo~ It’s been a while." Tossing the corpse over her shoulder, she made her way down to the prison. The night shift employees didn’t blink an eye when she passed with a body in tow. They knew the drill.

The moment Boxy's cell opened, his eyes peeked through the crack—and then the lid burst open. His tongue lolled out at the sight of fresh meat. She caressed his head gently before tossing the body onto the floor. As he ate, she sat beside him, talking about anything that came to mind. Boxy couldn’t speak, but she knew he was listening—and understanding.

It was hard to leave him, especially when he whined softly for her to stay. But she had other matters to attend to.

"Oh, kitty cat~" she cooed softly as she entered CatNap's room, now dressed in fresh clothes. She had taken longer than expected—mopping up blood was a tedious task. But she was back, and she found him sitting nervously on his bed. "You must be curious about what just happened, hmm?" She didn’t sit beside him, mindful of his nerves. Instead, she knelt before him, waiting patiently.

"... You killed her," he said quietly.

"I did."

"The human guard was fine with it..."

"He was."

"... Have you killed before?"

"Many times." She looked down at her porcelain hands, imagining the blood that had stained them so often. "I am Playcare's security for a reason. So long as I don't step out of line, I can deal with these humans however I like—and they won’t bat an eye. Mister Pierre prefers it. Saves him money and resources." Her voice softened as her hands began to tremble. "But I hate the human employees. They know what we are, what was done to us—and still, they smile while they lead children to their deaths. So yes, when I kill them—when they beg and plead—I enjoy it."

The sadistic glint in her eyes startled CatNap. But then her expression crumbled.

"But then I remember those children. I smile with them, sing with them, play with them—and I lie to them. I give them hope that they’ll leave this hell, knowing they never will. And that makes me just like those adults. I let those kids slip through my fingers." She clenched her shaking hands. "I hate myself for it."

"I don’t think you’re like them," he whispered. "You try to keep us safe. You let me go when I tried to escape." She blinked, startled that he remembered.

"And I am grateful to 1006 for saving your life. But that still isn't enough. I just want them to be free, even if it means I have to stay down here to repent for what I have done." She looked up when CatNap's paws grabbed her hands.

"The Prototype will save us." She blinked in confusion.

"T-The Prototype? But how? Ever since you two tried to escape, he's been put in a high-security cell that only the Head Executives and the Doctor can access. I'm allowed to roam the prison however I like, but even I'm not allowed near it. I-It's impossible." She shivered slightly when he gave a low chuckle.

"He will give us salvation. With him, we will know true freedom." He noticed the way her face broke, even if it was just for a second; he saw the way his words were getting to her. "If we side with the Prototype, he will free us from this prison." Her gaze stayed on him before it drifted to the side.

"I don't care if I have to stay down here, I just want those kids to be free." She licked her lips as she looked at him. "If I help... will he promise to set them free?" He grinned.

"The Prototype will set us all free." She wavered, swallowing thickly as she took her hands back.

"I need to think about this, Theo. If something goes wrong--" He shook his head.

"Nothing will go wrong." She sighed.

"We don't know that. I haven't agreed nor have I declined the thought of siding with the Prototype, but I just need to think about this. If I do agree... I'll come find you, but it'll take me some time." He nodded his head.

"There's no need to rush, [F/N]."

"Thank you, Theo." She smiled, albeit weakly, and hugged him. "I really needed this."

"... If you ever need to talk, I'll be here." She hummed softly.

"You're probably the only one who would understand, but I don't want to burden you with my thoughts." He shook his head.

"It's the least I can do with all the stress you have to carry."

"Hah, then I appreciate it." She scratched under his chin and nuzzled her cheek against his. "I won't say a word about our conversation to anyone, but tell me if anyone else bothers you. I will personally take care of it. Or if you kill anyone, tell me and I'll clean it up. You're not technically allowed to kill anyone, so we'll both get in trouble if that occurs." He let out his own laugh.

"I'll keep that in mind." CatNap perked up when he felt her movements start to lag, so he looked at the wind-up key and saw that it was beginning to slow. Noticing this, he gently nudged her stomach. "You should go back to your stage; you're beginning to slow down."

"Oh, I didn't even notice." She started pushing herself up but struggled a little. She let out a noise when CatNap stood up and let her lean on his body. "Thank you."

"Allow me to help you down..." She hummed softly.

"I appreciate the help." The nightguards didn't question CatNap helping Ballade down the stairs and onto her stage, where he waited for her key to stop turning to finally leave her alone. They all knew that CatNap was her favorite out of all the Smiling Critters and figured if they couldn't find her in her usual spots, she'd be with that colossal cat.

And so the days went on as if nothing happened in the first place. A few of the children did notice that the woman was missing but eventually forgot about it when Ballade said she was at home resting after catching a cold. The Smiling Critters did notice that Ballade and CatNap seemed a lot closer than usual; they also knew that CatNap was her favorite, but whatever occurred that night seemed to have strengthened their bond. Speaking of which, they needed Ballade for something and found both her and CatNap on her stage with a couple of other children drawing.

"What a wonderful blend of colors, sweetheart. Crafty Corn has taught you well during her arts and crafts lessons." Ballade praised as she looked over their art piece, quite impressed by their skill. "You will make a fine artist someday, child." She teasingly pinched their nose and giggled softly when they squealed.

"Stop that!" She held her hands up in surrender before leaning back into CatNap once more, her hand absentmindedly patting his head while her music box played songs that helped him sleep. Her other hand was drawing circles in the air before she finally noticed DogDay, Bobby, and Bubba, where she perked up and waved her hand to greet them. "Good afternoon, children! Care to join us?" She cocked a brow when she saw the three of them look nervous.

"Um, you're not particularly busy, are you?" She looked at the children that were sprawled all over her stage while CatNap nestled close into her back before looking back up at them.

"...Not really, no. Why?" Their reason was so ridiculous it woke CatNap up; even the children were staring in confusion. That's where she found herself staring down at Kickin and Hoppy, who had somehow gotten themselves stuck in the children's playground. "And you did this because you wanted to prove you could fit through the hole?" At least Hoppy had the decency to look shameless; Kickin just huffed as he hung by his waist from out of the hole he was stuck in.

"...Yes." She shook her head.

"You do know that this is a playground built for tiny children, correct?" She chuckled softly when Hoppy covered her face with her ears. "Have anything to say for yourselves?"

"...Help us?"

"No!" She slapped a hand onto her forehead and let out a sigh while the crowd of children laughed when Hoppy and Kickin apologized, which was what she really wanted. The next hour was spent with Ballade trying to get them out without damaging the playground or hurting the two, but both were difficult. The two of them had wedged themselves pretty tight, and she couldn't pull them out without tearing their stitching. She practically had to tear the holes they were in wide enough for them to slip out, but due to this, it destroyed the part of the playground they got themselves stuck in. She then spent the next half hour explaining to a few of the employees what happened while Hoppy and Kickin were on their knees with their arms above their heads as a form of punishment.

"You guys did this to yourselves," Bubba said, Picky and Crafty nodding their heads from behind the elephant.

"We're sorry..." Hoppy and Kickin sighed, DogDay snickering softly.

"The children had a good laugh out of it," Bobby said, pursing her lips as she scratched her cheek.

"Sure, but now they have to close the playground so they can fix what Miss Ballade broke to get them out." They looked back over at her and saw how she pinched the bridge of her nose at what the employee told her, then apologized and consoled the children when they learned they couldn't play on the playground. "Way to go, you two."

"Let's hope Miss Ballade doesn't get in trouble. They don't like it when we break any of the property," Crafty said.

"Perhaps since it was her, she won't get into a lot of trouble."

"Still, I can't help but worry." Hoppy and Kickin felt even worse; because of their competitiveness, they were getting Ballade in trouble. True to her suspicion, Leith reprimanded Ballade for not keeping an eye on the two and for not thinking of any alternatives to prying them free. CatNap was the one to slink over to her side to comfort her but flinched upon noticing that behind her smile-painted face was the look of rage burning in her eyes. Her hand closed into a tight fist, her entire frame trembling with suppressed anger as she watched Leith with Stella and a few other employees walk away. Her eyes snapped over to CatNap when she felt him press himself against her side, his presence the only thing keeping her from lashing out. She took a slow breath, forcing her muscles to relax, but her voice, when she spoke, was tight and low.

"Thank you..." she spoke softly, his ears perked up at her words. "You're really the only person that can calm me down..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, soft enough that only he could hear. The way CatNap lit up had the children thinking that Ballade was going to reward him with something. A broken, rumbling purr rippled from his throat as he rubbed affectionately against her side. She responded by kneeling down, her painted smile still in place, and nuzzled her cheek gently against his fur. The warmth of the gesture seemed so natural, so familiar, that the children watching giggled at the display.

But then her eyes shifted, softening as they landed on Hoppy and Kickin. Their ears drooped, and their expressions were heavy with guilt. Without hesitation, she approached them. They jumped in surprise when her hands landed softly on their heads, then cupped the back of them to pull them into a warm embrace. She felt the way they trembled in her hold, their little bodies overcome with remorse.

"W-We're sorry for getting you in trouble, Miss Ballade..."

"We promise we won't d-do it again..." they whimpered softly, their voices shaking. She shook her head, her grip on them gentle but firm.

"It's fine, it's better if I get in trouble than you lot. They would be far harsher on you than they ever would be with me." The thought chilled her, though she kept her tone calm and comforting. We’re lucky all I got was a talking to and nothing else, she thought bitterly. Pulling back just enough to meet their eyes, she offered a soft, reassuring smile. "As long as you learn from this, all is fine." she sweat dropped when they started crying so she continued to hold them until they eventually calmed down.

The next day, determined to make things right, Hoppy and Kickin approached the playground supervisor and took full responsibility for the damage. They also worked together to organize an impromptu arts and crafts day with Crafty Corn’s help, keeping the children entertained while the playground was being repaired. They even helped with the cleanup and offered to assist in the minor repairs they could manage without making things worse. Ballade couldn't help but be impressed by their initiative to take responsibility—perhaps the two of them were finally learning—until she noticed them bickering again, each claiming the idea had been theirs. She cleared her throat pointedly, and with one sharp look, the two fell silent.

Despite their antics, the effort they put in didn’t go unnoticed. By the end of the week, the playground was on its way to being fixed, and the children had enjoyed a day filled with laughter and creativity. Even Stella, seeing their hard work, made a point to praise them for stepping up. Later, as the day came to an end, Ballade found herself once again sitting with CatNap on her stage, watching the children show off their colorful creations. She let out a soft sigh, her hand absentmindedly stroking behind his ears.

“Maybe they’ll grow out of it one day,” she mused. CatNap chuckled, his purring a gentle vibration against her side.

“Maybe. But where would the fun be in that?” Ballade smiled despite herself, the warmth of the moment washing away the week’s troubles. For now, at least, there was peace—and perhaps just a little bit of hope.

Until—

"We're a head short..." Ballade murmured to herself as she counted the children that exited the school, she grew nervous when she counted again and again but she still ended up short one child. "Even one of the Miss Delight teachers is missing. Where could they have gone?" One of the Miss Delight teachers approached Ballade after hearing her question.

"Miss Ballade, thank goodness I've found you." She raised a brow.

"What is it?" She looked down at the teacher and watched her pace.

"The employees came earlier today and pulled one of the children aside." Ballade's face turned cold at what she said. "We know we're not supposed to interfere when they take the children, but they weren't following the correct procedure, so one of my sisters is stalling them." Miss Delight flinched when she saw the dark look on Ballade's face, her voice dropping.

"Where are they?" she asked, her tone sharp and dangerous.

"If she's stopped them, they should be close to the back."

She nodded once and turned, her pace brisk and her mind already racing through every possible scenario. Her breath quickened as she navigated the halls, thoughts swirling in a dangerous storm. If they were taking a child now, in broad daylight, it was far outside protocol. They were only supposed to remove the children at lights out—when it was easier to explain away their absence by saying they had fallen ill overnight. If they were breaking that rule, it meant that the scientists were eager to experiment on a child instead of having the lucky "chosen child" that was lucky to be adopted.

"Please, don't take Sarah away!" Miss Delight's desperate plea echoed through the corridor, trembling with fear and determination. Ballade’s sharp eyes immediately locked onto the two employees holding the child—Sarah—between them, their grips too firm and their faces too tense. Sarah’s frightened whimpers tugged at something primal inside Ballade. When one of the employees pushed Miss Delight back, Ballade’s vision flashed with fury. Her smile, painted and eternal, hid the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

"Unhand that child." Ballade’s voice was calm—too calm—but the weight of it filled the air like a thunderclap. Every head turned toward her, and the employees visibly stiffened under her gaze.

"Miss Ballade, this is none of your concern—"

"It becomes my concern when my children are frightened," she cut in coldly. She advanced slowly, every step measured, her eyes never leaving theirs. "And it becomes my problem when protocols are ignored." She stopped mere feet from them, her towering presence suffocating in its intensity. "So I will only say this once more: unhand the child. Now." they were quick to heed her words and they let Sarah go, who cried weakly and fell into Miss Delight's embrace.

"I-I was so scared...!" she sobbed softly, Ballade waved her hand and gestured for Miss Delight to take the child and leave.

"I'll handle this, go join the rest of the children and your sisters." she bowed her head, thanking the figurine profusely as she rushed away with the child in hand. When they were both out of sight and she knew they were alone, her fist connected with the wall beside their head and they both jumped in fright when it made a hole. The sharp crack of breaking plaster echoed through the corridor, and dust rained down around them.

"What do you think you were doing, hmm?" she asked, her friendly persona disappearing as she glared down at the two humans, who trembled under her terrifying gaze. Her eyes, usually warm and expressive, had turned cold and razor-sharp, her smile a painted mockery of calm.

"W-We... We were just fo-- following orders." they answered, their voices shaking.

"Oh? Then why didn't you follow the proper procedure?" Ballade’s voice was low and dangerous, like a blade sliding from its sheath. She took a slow, deliberate step forward, and they instinctively backed away. "If you are to take a child, I am to be informed so I don't act the way I am acting right now." The venom in her tone made their knees buckle. "Even so, why aren't you following the correct protocol?"

She advanced again, her presence suffocating and overwhelming. "When you are to take a child in broad daylight, especially when there are other children to witness your actions, you must do it in a way that doesn't cause the child to stress and raise alarms. And yet here you are—manhandling her like some kind of thief." Her voice dropped to a whisper, which somehow made it even more terrifying. "Are you thieves? Are you looking to steal from me? Because I will not tolerate anyone who threatens my children." One of the employees tried to stammer out an excuse, but Ballade slammed her hand against the wall again, cutting them off. The impact left another crack in the plaster, and both humans flinched violently.

"Give me one good reason," she hissed, her eyes burning with fury, "why I shouldn't report you to the Head Executives myself. Or perhaps..." She tilted her head, her smile twisting into something darker. "Perhaps I should take this up with the Doctor. I'm sure he'd love to use you in a few of his experiments." They paled at the mention of the Doctor, their fear now nearly tangible.

"Please... it was a mistake! We—we won't do it again!" one of them whimpered.

"You’re right about that," Ballade snapped. "Because if you ever step out of line again, I promise you—there won’t be enough left of you for anyone to find. Now get out of my sight."

She closed her eyes, taking a slow breath to calm herself before ripping her hands free from the wall, flexing her fingers to shake off the debris. She was confused—why wasn't she informed that they were taking one of the children that day? Why did they show up at the school to remove little Sarah? The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. Something wasn’t right.

Did she do the right thing stepping in the way she did? The answer was clear in her heart—yes. But the weight of what she’d just done pressed heavily on her mind. She figured they were going to inform the higher-ups about her interference, and she knew there would be consequences. But was she really at fault? Was protecting the children wrong? Haa, she was going to get into so much trouble.

Her fingers twitched with leftover adrenaline as she turned to leave, but then she remembered the holes she had made. Her eyes darted around the corridor, scanning for any witnesses. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she grabbed the nearby lockers and, with little to no effort, shifted them just enough to conceal the damage.

Perfect.

She stepped back, brushing dust from her hands and examining her work with a critical eye. No one would know—at least for now.

"Miss Ballade!" her head perked up when she saw DogDay rushing up to her, his ears flopping with every hurried step. His face was a mix of worry and confusion "I heard what happened from Miss Delight! Are you alright?" She waved her hand to dismiss his concern, the painted smile on her face still intact, but her eyes betrayed her unease.

"I am fine, nothing to fret about," she answered calmly, her hand gently patting his shoulder in reassurance. "But I am concerned. Why would they break protocol? The scientists are usually very thorough on how they... take the children. They are never ones to send the employees—never in broad daylight, and never without informing me." Her voice softened, but the tension in it was unmistakable.

"Why would they do that?" she sighed.

"I haven't a clue." She jumped when she heard a cry, so she looked over DogDay and saw little Sarah clinging to Miss Delight's dress, the woman doing her best to comfort the child. Miss Delight's usual calm demeanor was visibly shaken, her hands smoothing over Sarah's hair in a desperate attempt to ease her fear.

"I-I was so scared, Miss Delight! I didn't do anything wrong!" The Smiling Critters, who had heard the commotion, huddled around the little girl, their soft voices trying to soothe her with gentle reassurances. Bobby reached out to pat her shoulder, and Crafty offered one of her handmade paper flowers, but nothing seemed to ease Sarah’s sobs. The moment Ballade approached, Sarah’s wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto her, and without hesitation, the little girl rushed over and threw her arms around Ballade's legs tightly. "I swear I didn't do anything wrong, Miss Ballade!" The heartbreak in Sarah's voice made Ballade’s chest tighten, her smile unable to mask the surge of emotion welling up inside her. She knelt down slowly, gently holding the trembling girl by her arms, brushing a stray lock of hair from Sarah's damp cheek.

"I'm sure you did nothing wrong, little one. But fear not—your friend Miss Ballade Ballerina thwarted their efforts! They won’t be coming to scare you, not anymore." Her voice softened with a warm, protective lilt, but inside, she felt a cold fury still simmering from the encounter. She gasped softly when Sarah threw her arms around her neck, her tiny frame shaking with sobs. Ballade sighed, the sound soft and heavy as her own arms wrapped securely around the child, one hand cradling the back of Sarah’s head as she whispered gentle reassurances. "I'll make sure of it," she promised, her voice low and fierce with quiet determination. She knew those words meant more than Sarah could ever understand.

"T-Thank you, Miss Ballade. I'm glad I can trust you." The girl’s words were muffled against her shoulder, but they struck Ballade harder than any blow. Her breath caught as she felt Sarah nuzzle closer into her embrace, seeking safety and comfort. The weight of guilt settled deeper into Ballade’s mind, cold and unshakable.

She really shouldn't place her trust in her.

CatNap noticed Ballade becoming more distant from herself after the incident with the child as bedtime approached. No one else seemed to pick up on the subtle changes — the way her painted smile looked just a bit more strained, how her eyes wavered every time she looked at the children. The mask she always wore, the one that kept her true emotions hidden, was slipping. She lingered longer when the children hugged her, held them a little tighter, as if trying to memorize the warmth of their small arms around her. Their laughter, their trust — it weighed heavily on her shoulders. They told her how much they loved spending time with her, and each word chipped away at her carefully constructed facade. It had always been easy to fake happiness for their sake, to protect their ignorant bliss… but with each passing day, it became so much harder to keep up the act.

It was during bedtime, after they put the children to sleep and she was walking CatNap back to his room, when he finally understood why.

"I'll do it." his head perked up when she spoke, her face void of any emotion.

"... do what?" her eyes hardened, whether it be at him or herself, he couldn't really tell.

"Whatever you and 1006 need, I'll do it." Ballade's shoulders slumped as her eyes fixated on a picture frame of the children laughing and smiling, not a single bad thought behind their innocent eyes. She stared at it, the image feeling so distant— like something she could never quite reach. She wondered what it would feel like to truly hold them, to feel their warmth, the softness of their little hands when they reached out for her. But she never would. The sensation of touch was something foreign, a mystery she'd never get to experience again in this body. Every embrace she gave them was empty for her, a performance of comfort she could never fully share.

"I can't do it anymore." Her voice broke, trembling with the weight of her words. "It pains me every time I watch those children cry and ask me what they did wrong to be taken away, how they trust me with every inch of their small bodies and I trample all over it just by simply existing." She wanted so badly to feel the way they held onto her, to know the security they believed she gave them. But all she ever felt was the aching hollowness where that connection should have been.

"I hate going to the prison and hearing their anguished cries to be let out, to go home, to be free." Her hands shook at her sides, the phantom feeling of their terrified clinging playing through her mind — sensations she could only imagine. "I hate lying to them, telling them everything will be okay when I know it won’t." she could imagine the sensation of tears welling up in her eyes, though they could never fall since she lacked the proper glands to produce them. "They look at me like I’m their protector, their safe place… and every time one of them disappears, I know I've failed them again." She clenched her fists so tightly her porcelain hands threatened to crack, but even the pain of it was absent. The frustration of that emptiness only made the ache inside her deepen.

Ballade's fingers traced the frame’s edges, her hands trembling as she fought to keep her composure. CatNap watched her quietly, his tail flicking with unease. It was rare to see Ballade like this— so vulnerable, so worn down by guilt and sorrow. He padded closer, pressing his head against her arm in an attempt to offer some comfort.

"They deserve better," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Better than me. Better than this place." CatNap let out a low, broken purr, his eyes flickering with a knowing look.

"Then let's change it," he murmured, his voice soft but resolute. Ballade turned to him, her eyes wide but weak.

"But what if we fail?" he shook his head.

"We won't. With your help, freedom will be in ours hands. The Prototype will make sure of that, I promise." her lip trembled and he'd think she'd start crying but she was unable to, she bit her lip and knelt down to press her forehead against his.

"I don't care what happens to me, CatNap, so long as those kids get to leave this hellish place." Her voice hardened. "I'll side with you and the Prototype if it means those kids get to be free, if it means they don't have to suffer anymore." She turned to face him, eyes burning with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. "Just tell me what you guys are going to do, and I'll be right on your side." she was fully on her knees as she wrapped her arms around CatNap's neck and nuzzled into his head, he returned the affection as a single thought went through his mind.

He had won.

Ever since their conversation to help the Prototype, CatNap observed Ballade closely. He saw how the weight of her decision pressed down on her more with each passing day. There was a newfound desperation in her every action, an urgency that hadn’t been there before—because now there was chance to finally make things right. Now there was a possibility that the children's suffering could finally end, and that chance both strengthened and broke her.

He noticed how she struggled to get by every day, caught between the promise of freedom for the children and the reality of her own helplessness. The knowledge that she could finally save them gnawed at her, but with it came the agony of waiting—waiting for the right time, waiting for the right plan. Every second felt like a betrayal, knowing the children she loved were still at risk.

Ballade’s guilt was killing her. She hated herself for every moment she stood by and did nothing while the children were taken—frightened, confused, and pleading for answers she couldn’t give. She hated the way they trusted her so completely, how they clung to her and sought comfort in her arms when she knew she couldn’t protect them. And worse, she hated how she longed for their touch even though she couldn’t feel it.

That emptiness haunted her. Every time a child’s small hand slipped into hers, every time they hugged her tight, she could only pretend to feel it. She could see their warmth, their affection, but it never reached her. And yet she held onto those moments as if they could somehow fill the void inside her. She clung to their love because it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

"... the Prototype has a plan, [F/N]. But we must wait before we can act on it."

"How long must I wait?"

"I'm sure you can be patient." a weak chuckle escaped her throat when he saw her pout, he nudged his head against her cheek "Our freedom will be guaranteed with you on our side." she nods.

"Just tell me when, and I'll do whatever you two need me to do."

Having Ballade side with the Prototype was the last hurdle in their final plan. She was already well aware that the Prototype was one of the most dangerous experiments to ever come out of the Bigger Bodies Initiative. And though she was no match for a force as powerful and unpredictable as the Prototype itself, Ballade was more than capable of handling CatNap and the other Bigger Bodies. That was her job — not only to care for the children and dispose of any unwanted guests but to apprehend any of the toys that stepped out of line. She’d done it before, and she can most definitely do it again. She remembered the incident with Mommy Longlegs vividly — the frantic way the creature lashed out when the children left the Game Station and moved into Playcare. The hysteria had escalated so quickly that Ballade had been forced to tie Mommy Longlegs' limbs together just to stop her from going on a rampage. It wasn’t the first time Ballade had been made to turn on one of her own, and wouldn’t be the last so long as the toys did their jobs.

The Prototype will be most pleased to learn Ballade has sided with him.

[august eighth 1995, 10.00 am]

Deep breath.

In, and out.

In, and out.

Quell your nerves.

"Ballade, are you alright?" her eyes move down to one of the human counselors and saw the way the woman looked up at her in concern, seemingly noticing she wasn't acting like herself, but Ballade easily masked her unease and smiled.

"Don't worry about me, Miss. Just trying to come up with more ways to entertain the children, the older ones are growing bored of the usual activities I usually plan out. I'm struggling to come up with new things to keep them entertained." the woman laughed as she pats Ballade on the back.

"I'm sure you can come up with something, you're quite creative when it comes to keeping those kids on their toes!" she gave a laugh in response to her words.

"I try my best." she waves her hand goodbye when the woman had to return to the Counselor's Office, missing the way Ballade's eyes turned cold as they observed all the human employees walking around. It was like any other ordinary day within the Playcare, the children were up and escorted to the dining hall for breakfast by the Smiling Critters then guided to the school to proceed with the day. It was only a matter of time before it all begins, and they won't even know what hit them.

".... don't tell me you're chickening out, [F/N]." a bitter laugh escapes her lips when CatNap appeared beside her, she looked down at him and could practically see the eagerness in his eyes "It's almost upon us." she huffed.

"Yes, the day they all reap what they sow. The other Critters are still unaware, right?" he nods.

"They are. They're not nearly as understanding as you, so I was afraid to outright tell them the details about what was going to happen today." he saw the way her shoulders slumped.

"I feel like that it's for the better, Theo. Better to stain our hands than than the others." she let out a breath "Then we're going for plan b?" he nods his head.

"I have already told them to meet us beneath the Playhouse." she closed her eyes and briefly looked back into Home Sweet Home to find the clock and it was only half past ten, he watched her and saw the way she rubbed her arms nervously "Remember, [F/N], we're doing this to secure our freedom. The Prototype is giving us our chance to do right by the children by not only saving them, but ourselves." despite her hesitation, she nodded.

"You're right." she inhaled deeply before they both made their way to the Playhouse, they went through the back to avoid running into any other staff members or children and found the Smiling Critters in the prison, Ballade made sure there was nobody else beneath the Playhouse before entering the room alone.

"Children... something drastic is going to happen in the next half hour, and though I don't want you to participate in what is going to happen, I can't leave you in the dark." Kickin let out a nervous chuckle, his feathered hand rubbing the back of his head.

"W-What do you mean? Does this have to do with what CatNap was yapping about months ago?" she nodded.

"What exactly has he told you?" They looked at each other rather anxiously, Bobby pressing her paws together.

"He mentioned... the Prototype? Saying stuff about how he'll save us." Hoppy nodded.

"He was really cryptic with his words. It kind of freaked me out."

"CatNap was talking about how there will come a time when we will get to take back our lives if we... join the Prototype," Bubba said, his hooves messing with his lightbulb-shaped zipper.

"CatNap wasn't s-serious about us joining the Prototype, right? The staff told us that he was very dangerous," Crafty murmured softly.

"He's been obsessed with that thing for ages. I thought he would have gotten over it years ago," Picky added. DogDay, in turn, gave a forced laugh as he looked up at Ballade. He felt uneasy with how they were all trapped in the cramped room with Ballade blocking their way out. The dimly lit room didn’t help calm his nerves as Ballade looked down at them all with an unreadable expression.

"He wasn't being serious though, right? He was probably just trying to scare us! He wouldn't really consider joining hands with that experiment." He took Ballade by the hand and looked up at her for some sort of reassurance. "If you're talking to us about this, then that means CatNap brought this up with you as well. He wasn't being serious about helping the Prototype, right? You talked him out of it, right?" They all looked up at her eagerly and saw the way she couldn't meet their eyes.

"M-Miss Ballade?" When she took a step forward, they felt a chill run down their spines when they saw the look in her eyes.

"The Prototype will set us free," she spoke with a rather eerie voice. She took DogDay's paw and squeezed it, a look of desperate and conflicted expression on her face. "He said that if we help him, we'll be saving the orphans from being killed."

DogDay yanked his paw back, stepping away as if burned. "You... you're siding with the Prototype?" His voice was trembling, his wide eyes filled with disbelief.

Ballade flexed her hands, her painted smile a stark contrast to the pain in her eyes. "I didn’t, initially," she whispered. "But I’ve grown tired of seeing so many children dying at the hands of the scientists — and I let it all happen because I couldn't do anything about it. If we help him, he promises that he'll set them free... He’ll set you free! Don't you understand? If siding with the Prototype means we get to end this madness, then so be it."

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

"No," Hoppy whispered, her ears flattened against her head. "No, this isn’t right… You—You can’t believe him!"

"The Prototype is a monster!" Bobby cried. "He’s dangerous — the humans told us so!"

"And the humans lie!" Ballade snapped, her voice cracking as emotion bled through. "They hurt us! They hurt the children! How many more have to suffer before we fight back?!"

"Not like this," DogDay said softly, shaking his head. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "Not like this, Miss Ballade…" they stare up at her in terror as her shoulders deflated, she let out a defeated breath as she lowered her head.

“Then... you leave me no choice.” Ballade’s voice was heavy with regret as she stepped to the side, one hand reaching for the doorknob behind her. It was then that they noticed the red smoke seeping from beneath the doorframe. When she turned the knob and pulled the door open, the thick, eerie mist flooded into the room, swirling around their feet. CatNap stepped in silently, his eyes gleaming with purpose.

“I can’t have you stopping us,” Ballade continued, her voice quiet but resolute. “Nor telling the adults what you’ve learned.” As the door clicked shut behind CatNap, the red smoke spread, filling the room like a creeping tide.

“W-What are you doing?” Kickin’s voice wavered, panic rising.

“Why are you doing this, Ballade?!” Bubba cried out, fear evident in his eyes.

One by one, they succumbed. The red smoke took them swiftly, their bodies crumpling to the floor as the strange gas overtook them. Ballade stood still, taking a deep breath—unaffected—as the others collapsed around her. Only DogDay resisted, his knees buckling as he fought to stay conscious, his teeth clenched.

“Please... don’t...” he whispered, his vision blurring.

But it was futile. As his strength gave out and he began to fall, Ballade caught him, cradling him gently in her arms. For a moment, she held him there, her grip firm but careful. When she pulled away, her fingers brushed against his face, cupping his cheeks with a heartbreaking tenderness.

“I’m doing this for your own good,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You’ll forgive me for this when it’s all over... when you see what we’ve done was to save you.”

DogDay’s hand gripped her shoulder weakly, his eyes pleading—but then his strength faded completely, and his body went limp. Ballade closed her eyes, forcing herself to swallow the guilt rising in her throat. With methodical care, she gathered the others, dragging their unconscious forms into their individual cells. The sound of the locks clicking into place echoed in the still air, and she stood in the silence that followed, her heart heavy.

For a long moment, she lingered at the door, her hand resting on the cold metal.

“You did what you could, [F/N],” CatNap said softly behind her. “I’m sure they’ll thank you when this is all over.”

Ballade clasped her hands together tightly, the motion more to steady herself than anything else. “I just hope... my judgment isn’t wrong.” She looked down at CatNap, her eyes sincere but filled with doubt. “The Prototype will uphold his promise... right? The orphans will be set free... right?”

She didn’t trust the Prototype—how could she?—but she trusted CatNap. And CatNap believed in him. That was the only reason she was still standing here.

The only reason she hadn’t turned back.

"The doctors say he's dangerous, but he wants what's best for us all." this was enough to reassure her, she reached down and ruffled his head.

"If you say so." she takes another breath to calm herself one last time "We should probably go, it's almost time." he nods.

"The Hour of Joy is almost upon us." she chuckled as she laced her fingers together and pushed them forward, hearing her joints crack under the pressure.

"Let's get to work."

There were many toys that the Prototype managed to recruit to his cause, each one with their own grudges and reasons for joining his orchestrated rebellion throughout the entirety of Playtime Co. From Huggy Wuggy, stationed menacingly within the main lobby with his sharp-toothed grin and cold, unblinking eyes, to Mommy Longlegs lurking within the Game Station alongside the ever-watchful Mini Huggies, waiting with predatory patience for their signal to strike. In Playcare, the heart of the children's refuge, CatNap and Ballade stood as the most dangerous of his allies—each powerful in their own right, each burdened with their own twisted sense of duty and guilt.

Even Miss Delight, the ever-cheerful face of comfort for the orphans, was drawn into this uprising, her tears of joy and sadness masking the deep-seated resentment she bore toward the human employees. And then there were the mini Smiling Critters—once innocent and carefree, now caught between loyalty and fear. They hadn’t yet chosen their sides, and that hesitation made them dangerous liabilities.

The Prototype extended a hand to all the toys who had suffered at the hands of the human employees, promising them more than just vengeance. He offered them freedom—freedom from the torment of their artificial existence, from the chains of servitude and the horror of seeing the children they loved and protected dragged away, never to return. It was a chance to end the cycle of pain and finally reclaim their lives from those who had treated them as nothing more than tools and experiments.

EMERGENCY ALERT SYSTEM EFFECTIVE 8/8/1995 11:00:00 EST

Playtime Company

Issue A

WORK FORCE DANGER ALERT

"The following message is for all Playtime Co. employees.

At 11:01AM, Eastern Standard Time, an unknown hostile force declared present within the Playtime Co. facility.

Personnel are to begin enacting emergency evacuation protocols immediately.

Leave all personal belongings.

Do not engage with any hostile individuals.

If no exit path is available, seek shelter in a hidden location.

Use blankets or pillows to cover your body, and remain silent.

Do not look through any windows.

Do not open doors for any individuals.

Do not make eye contact--

...

...

Open the doors now. The Hour of Joy has arrived."

It started with the alarms—shrill, blaring cries echoing through the factory like the wailing of lost souls. The lights flickered violently, plunging corridors into a maddening dance of shadow and flame. In the main lobby, Huggy Wuggy descended upon the unsuspecting staff with terrifying speed, his massive frame moving with unnatural grace as his gleaming teeth tore through the chaos. Screams filled the air, but no one escaped his relentless pursuit. Blood painted the walls, limbs lay scattered across the floor, and the air reeked of iron and fear.

At the Game Station, Mommy Longlegs played with her prey. Her elastic limbs snaked through vents and rafters, dragging terrified employees into the darkness. The Mini Huggies scurried in swarms, their tiny forms overwhelming anyone who crossed their path. The once lively station became a house of horrors, filled with echoes of laughter twisted into something monstrous. Flesh was torn from bone, and the floors were slick with blood as the station became a macabre playground.

In Playcare, it was no better than the rest of the factory.

Outside the Playhouse, the halls of Playcare ran red. CatNap drifted through the corridors like a phantom, his red smoke spilling into every crevice. The humans never stood a chance—one by one, they collapsed, some peacefully, others choking on the thick haze, their bodies hitting the ground with lifeless thuds. Ballade followed in his wake, her hands already stained with blood. She moved with cold purpose, securing the orphans first, locking them away where no harm could reach them.

But the carnage followed her.

The human employees were torn apart, their bodies left in grotesque displays of violence. One counselor she had shared a conversation earlier in the morning with lay sprawled against a wall, her throat crushed that her head lolled unnaturally to the side. Another staff member—someone who had once laughed and joked with the children—clawed at his own face, the red mist driving him into a frenzy of madness before his body finally gave out.

As the hour stretched on, the factory drowned in chaos. The Prototype’s plan unfolded perfectly, and the rebellion tore through Playtime Co. like wildfire. Yet amid the destruction, doubt gnawed at Ballade’s resolve. The line between savior and monster blurred, and she wondered if the price of freedom was too steep to bear.

...

...

"Haaa..." It was only hours after the Hour of Joy had commenced when Ballade sat on one of the benches within Playcare, her head thrown back over the backrest while she spread her legs out. "That took longer than I expected," she muttered, as blood slowly dripped down her unclenched fists. The metallic scent of it clung heavily to the air, a stark contrast to the usual warmth and joy that once filled this place. She didn’t get exhausted easily, but after hours of nonstop killing, her body finally felt the weight of it.

She sat up and let her body rest against her knees, more blood sliding down her face and legs, staining her once-pristine porcelain skin a deep, ghastly red. The sticky sensation of it had long since lost its shock — now it just felt like part of her.

CatNap emerged from the shadows, his colossal frame also splattered with crimson, though his breathing was steady and composed. "Most of the humans are gone," he reported, his voice light, almost pleased. "Playcare’s finally quiet. Peaceful."

But it wasn’t peaceful. It was too quiet. The children’s laughter, the chatter of the Smiling Critters — it was all gone. In its place was an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant, occasional drip of blood hitting the cold floor. Ballade’s eyes flickered toward the Playhouse where the Smiling Critters still lay unconscious, and her heart twisted. They hadn’t stirred once since she and CatNap had gassed them. She told herself it was for their own good — they wouldn’t have been able to handle the truth of what needed to be done. Still, the silence behind that door haunted her more than the screams of the humans ever could.

"They’ll thank us," CatNap said softly, as if reading her mind. "When the dust settles, when the children are free— they’ll understand." Ballade nodded slowly, but the doubt gnawed at her. She looked down at her blood-soaked hands, wondering if there would ever truly be an end to the nightmare they’d created in pursuit of salvation.

"Cleaning this all up is going to take so much time..." she said as she looked around and saw all the bodies "I don't suppose we can leave this to the other toys, hmm?" the look CatNap gave her said otherwise, she let out a defeated sigh.

"The Prototype wants us to drag all the bodies down below." CatNap's voice was low, the eerie silence of Playcare amplifying his words. Ballade rubbed her face in exhaustion, smearing more blood across her porcelain skin.

"I can only guess why." Now that all the humans were gone, their connection to the outside world was severed. Supplies would stop coming. They'd have to make do with what was left. "I'm sure there are still some humans roaming around, hiding."

"We got all the ones that weren’t fast or smart enough to hide," he replied. "We should probably head to the labs first before dragging all the bodies."

"Fine by me. I’m not up for more labor after what just happened. Besides, we can check on the others down below to see if they’re done. There were a lot more humans in the prison compared to Playcare." She chuckled, shaking her head as she noticed the eagerness in his eyes.

"Let’s go," he urged, nudging his head into her side. She gently pushed him off as they walked toward the Gas Production Zone.

"We’re going, we’re going," she muttered. Their heavy footsteps echoed against the cold floor with every step, the sound bouncing off walls now stripped of the laughter that once filled the air. They maneuvered over the countless bodies they’d eventually have to clean up, the stillness around them almost deafening.

Reaching the elevator, Ballade gestured for CatNap to step in first. She followed closely behind, waiting for the familiar lurch as it started to descend. But instead of standing still, she left the control panel and leapt down to join him, landing softly beside him. Thanks to her body, she could scale great heights and drop from any distance without pain or injury. No matter how far the humans ran, she would always find a way to get to them. No matter where they hid, there would be no escape.

On their way down to the labs, they came across several toys—some still in the throes of violence, others feasting on the remains of the security staff. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood and the grotesque sounds of tearing flesh. Some toys played with their victims' remains, giggling in twisted delight as they dismembered what was left. Others stood over the bodies like sentinels, eyes wide with an unhinged kind of glee. Blood painted the walls in wild, sweeping strokes, turning once sterile corridors into grotesque art.

Most of the toys paid them no mind, too absorbed in their grisly work. A few glanced their way, tensing as if ready to strike, but the moment recognition flickered in their eyes, they stood down. Even the most frenzied among them knew better than to cross paths with Ballade and CatNap.

The two of them had a reputation. CatNap was the Prototype's most loyal follower, his name whispered with both respect and fear. And Ballade—Ballade was the Head Executive’s personal bodyguard, an enforcer who obeyed their every command without question. As they ventured deeper through the prison towards the labs, every so often, distant, inhuman screams echoed from below—a reminder of what waited for them at the bottom. The air felt heavier, saturated with the scent of blood and chemicals as they made it to the lower labs. The walls bore deep gouges, the aftermath of something strong and enraged. And in the far distance, they could hear it—metal scraping against metal, a slow, deliberate sound that set their teeth on edge.

"Hmm?" Ballade twisted her head to the side when she heard a sudden clatter, sighing to herself when she spotted a scientist trying to hide but freaked out when he realized he had been spotted "Go on without me, I'll catch him before he locks down the labs. Besides, the Prototype scares me." she gestures for him to go on before turning and chasing after the scientist, catching up to him was easy but due to the fact he ran away he had led her to more humans that were hiding out. Ballade moved through the dim corridors, the scent of blood and metal still thick in the air. She had just finished tracking down the stray scientists, their cries cut short in a single, efficient movement. Wiping her hands on her already bloodied dress, she started back toward the lower labs where the Prototype waited.

As she approached the entrance, the sound of voices reached her ears. She slowed her steps, curiosity and caution guiding her closer.

"…and once the remaining children are secured, we can begin the next phase," the Prototype’s voice was calm and calculating, every word measured as he used the stolen voices of those who have spoken to him. "Their resilience makes them perfect subjects. We’ll have ample opportunities to push beyond the limits of what this facility dared to achieve."

Ballade froze. Her heart—if it could beat—would have stopped. She stepped closer, unnoticed, her breath caught.

"Ballade..." CatNap’s voice was hesitant. "Is not going to let this go. She wants them to be free..."

"Freedom," the Prototype interrupted smoothly, "is a matter of perspective. You see, true freedom lies in purpose—fulfilling the potential we were created for. These children… they are the key to unlocking evolution. Their sacrifice will pave the way for something far greater than any of us."

Ballade’s stomach twisted violently. The world around her blurred at the edges, a rising wave of nausea and panic threatening to drown her. Her hands curled into trembling fists, slick with the blood of those she had already killed, and the weight of those lives now pressed down on her like lead.

"But—"

"Do not let sentiment cloud your judgment," the Prototype’s tone darkened. "You’ve seen how fragile they are, how easily they break. Would you rather they die in fear and ignorance? Or serve a higher calling? In this way, their suffering gains meaning."

She couldn’t listen anymore.

"You lied to me," Ballade spoke, albeit a whisper, but it let her presence be known as she stepped into the lab. Both figures turned toward her. CatNap’s eyes widened in guilt; the Prototype merely regarded her with cool detachment.

"[F/N]—" CatNap started, but she shook her head as she looked towards the monstrosity that was the Prototype.

"You told me we were doing this for them," she whispered, her voice shaking with panic. "To save them. Not… not this." She gestured wildly. "Not to turn them into experiments!"

"Their freedom," the Prototype said, unflinching, "comes through transcendence. Through transformation. It is the only true escape from the frailties of their existence. You of all creations should understand this."

"I understand," she spat, stepping forward, "that you used me." Her cold eyes locked onto CatNap. "And you let him."

"I… I thought—" CatNap stammered, ears flattened.

"No." She shook her head, the enormity of her mistake crashing over her. The faces of the children flashed behind her eyes—their laughter, their trust—and the image shattered under the knowledge of what she had condemned them to. "I made a mistake to trust you." she shakes her head before turning on her feels and leaving, ignoring the way CatNap called out to her as she hurried back to Playcare.

This was a mistake.

I made a mistake.

I shouldn't have trusted them.

I shouldn't have trusted him.

But it's too late.

From one hell to another, the Prototype's in control now.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

hello! i need a bit of help with verbs, more so the basic verbs and their synonyms.

Writing Notes: Verbs

Verb - a word that shows an:

action (‘I will jog to the store’),

occurrence (‘The bananas ripened overnight’), or

state of being (‘I have the same right to exist as you’).

Main Types of Verbs

Transitive verbs require a direct object, meaning a noun, pronoun, or noun phrase that receives the action of the verb and so completes the sentence’s meaning. The direct object typically answers the question what? or who?

Intransitive verbs do not take direct objects. They are often followed by words that answer questions such as where?, when?, how?, or how long?

Other Types of Verbs

Action verbs describe actions that someone can do or demonstrate.

Auxiliary verbs, or helping verbs, help the main verb of the sentence (known as a participle) by extending its meaning. You’ll see them in verb phrases where one verb doesn’t form a complete thought, or in perfect verb tenses.

Compound verbs combine two words to create a new verb. They can be 1 or 2 words long, or they can be hyphenated.

Regular verbs only add -d or -ed in their past tense form.

Irregular verbs are verbs that change form in the past tense.

Linking verbs connect the subject to details about the subject. Various forms of the verb to be are linking verbs, including am, is, are, and were.

Modal verbs are auxiliary verbs that show possibility or necessity. They always accompany other action verbs.

Phrasal verbs are a type of compound verb that end with a preposition. They’re often difficult to directly translate to different languages because they’re English idioms.

Stative verbs describe a position or state of being that you can’t see, but exists anyway. While they don't perform any visible action, they're typically followed by a direct object.

Examples of transitive verbs

“The kids like pickles.” (Like is the verb and pickles are the direct object.)

“Can you ask the neighbor when the yard sale will be?” (Ask is the verb and the noun phrase the neighbor is the direct object.)

"We ate cake for breakfast." (Ate is the verb and cake is the direct object.)

Examples of intransitive verbs

“Her car died suddenly last week.” (The verb is die and we are told when it happened.)

“We ate at a fancy restaurant.” (The verb is ate and we are told where this happened)

“Someone was coughing loudly.” (The verb is coughing and we are told how this was happening.)

“The movie marathon took all night to finish watching.” (The verb is took and we are told how long this took.)

A single verb can also have both transitive and intransitive uses, as in “They are playing soccer” (transitive) and “They’ve been playing all afternoon” (intransitive).

Examples of action verbs

Naomi accepted the job offer.

We baked a carrot cake.

She ironed her dress. 

Mark drinks vanilla lattes.

Examples of stative verbs

You deserve a prize.

Jane hates humidity.

Henry loves billiards.

I remember you.

Examples of regular verbs

We walked to the concert. (walk becomes walked)

Pauly lied to his friends. (lie becomes lied)

The kids performed in the school play. (perform becomes performed)

I smelled smoke in the hallway. (smell becomes smelled)

Examples of irregular verbs

I spoke to my neighbor. (speak becomes spoke)

We saw the new action movie last night. (see becomes saw)

The community felt nervous. (feel becomes felt)

Nora made a beautiful speech at the wedding. (make becomes made)

Present — Past — Past Participle

be — was, were — been

begin — began — begun

choose — chose — chosen

drink — drank — drunk

eat — ate — eaten

Examples of linking verbs

Damien is an expert craftsman.

We became best friends in high school.

You seem kind and thoughtful.

I am taller than my brother.

Examples of auxiliary verbs

I have been there before.

Paul doesn’t know his way home.

He didn’t run for president.

The dogs are playing in the yard.

Auxiliary verbs: am, is, are, was, were, have, had, etc.

Examples of modal verbs

We will find the perfect pumpkin.

Tiffany might want another helping of pie.

I must finish this project tonight.

The whole team should be there.

Modal verbs: can, could, will, would, shall, should, ought, must, may, might, etc. These verbs are found in verbal phrases, seldom by themselves: can see, will run, might study, must sell, etc.

In a verbal phrase, remember that the modal or auxiliary verb may be separated from the main verb, especially in a question (e.g., Did you hear me call?)

Examples of compound verbs

Don’t overstay your welcome.

Can you babysit my kids tonight?

Be sure to waterproof your new shoes.

I color-coded my whole file cabinet.

Examples of phrasal verbs

Can you take out the trash?

My girlfriend just broke up with me.

Don’t give up on your dreams.

The kids get along so well.

State of being verbs: am, is, was, were, will be, became, seem, look, feel...

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Writing Basics ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hope this helps with your writing! Also these previous posts:

Verb Tenses ⚜ Signal Verbs ⚜ Descriptive Verbs

[chaifootsteps]

Almost every character in Hazbin Hotel sucks, but the character who’s change from Pilot to Show upset me the most was Charlie, mainly because they defanged her so hard.

Pilot Charlie was sweet and ambitious. She knew what she wanted to do, and she was gonna do her damndest to make it happen. She’s naive about sinner struggles, but she does seem like she genuinely wants to help people. She also has two things Show Charlie doesn’t: A backbone & A functioning brain. She doesn’t just sit down and take shit, she’s willing to throw hands, and she has the intelligence to make progress through Alastor, without compromising her morals or making a deal by simply USING HER AUTHORITY AS PRINCESS and ordering him to help her. I love Pilot Charlie so much.

So you can see why they took all semblances of control and ambition she ha, dumped them in the trash, and swapped her out with a babified version of herself. Show Charlie has almost no conviction when it comes to reaching her goals, with any progress she makes coming from favors or shoving all the real work onto other people. She fucking COWERS at the mere thought of having to use her authority as Princess, claiming it to be “too mean”, and Husk’s line about her wanting to fix others’ problems instead of her own makes it sound like she’s only running the Hotel as a fucked up way of self therapy rather than out of genuine care for others. By the end of the season, we’re supposed to see her as this Kind and Noble leader who changed so many lives for the better, when all the hard stuff was done by the characters around her and not herself.

Bring back Pilot Charlie, man, she didn’t deserve to go so soon. Y’know what, give her to Ken, he deserves her more

Pilot Charlie was such a treasure. She was vulnerable, tough as nails, silly and clever all at once and I wish Ken owned her along with the rest of Hazbin.

(Also, Ken's pronouns are they/them, for the record.)

[candyredmusings]

Slay The Princess Sentence Starters

Sentences taken from Slay The Princess: The Pristine Cut by Blacktabby Games! Change Pronouns As Needed!

CW: Angst, Fluff, Comedic, Romantic

"Now we can both enjoy the mutual romantic subtext to this murder!"

"Yeah do you not know what The Look is? Even I know what The Look is."

"Do you think we can throw her out the window?"

"Hey you threw it out the window even though I just told you not to, I'm proud of you!" 

“WHY DO YOU HATE ME?” 

“What do you mean? This is what you wanted. Idiot.” 

"We ain't done yet, we get up."

"She asks that I tell you to remember her. You won't." 

"BEHOLD! The PERFECT woman!"

“I didn’t think you’d come back. We’re going to have a lot of fun, you and I!” 

“He’s making fun of us!”

“If only I were capable of throwing myself off a bridge.”

"Do I miss your heart because I can’t stand to see it go?"

“I will not be described into submission.” 

"By believing in your limitations you put a shackle on your neck."

"The number of stabbing implements I have is practically zero!"

"The world can't be bad if you're still in it."

"There are few things more terrifying than one's own heart, and there is almost nothing more terrifying than sharing it with another."

" ...do you not have anything witty to say? I could use a good bit of wit right now."

"The End. Nice knowing you."

"You're using a lot of words to say a lot of nothing."

"But violence and passion are dances that both of us know well."

"No. You stop that! Stop all this nonsense."

"If you want us to ignore her, then why did you tell us any of that 'wide pleadin eyes begging for mercy' business to begin with?"

"Whatever you're trying to do right now, you don't have to do it alone."

"You have no idea how good it is to hear you."

"I think you know who I am."

"HA! YOU BASTARD! Even face-to-face, you find a way to stab me in the back."

"I know you and you're hideous! Absolutely wretched! Just like me!"

"You ask of things that cannot be done."

"Why wouldn't I be kind to you? You are the only thing I know that isn't me."

"Fuck this guy. Don't trust him."

"You will have your rest in due time, and I am sorry for the burdens I place on you."

"I would never dare to tarnish our relationship by assuming myself above you."

"Names are their attempts to capture that which cannot be captured."

"Sweet! I've always wanted to off a monarch. Viva la revolucion!" 

"Oh, you bastard! You're in for it now. I'm wise to your tricks!"

“My will triumphs yours."

"We've hurt each other plenty, and I still like you."

"What nooo I wouldn't stab you."

"Why? Why did you let me do this?!"

"It takes a wretch to know a wretch, and we're all at the bottom of the barrel here."

"They're good questions. Great questions, even. But they don't have any answers."

“Do not mourn her; She has finally been heard.”

"Last time? If somebody came into my house and tried to kill me and I cut his neck open and then he stabbed me in the heart and we both died looking into each other's eyes, well, surely I would remember that! But I don't, so it must not have happened!"

"I just want to make you happy!"

"You've been kinder to me than anyone else I've met. Thank you."

“I’m not going to destroy the world, but I am going to hold it in my hands and squeeze it.”

"Oh that's right! Yeah, fuck this guy, don't trust him."

"If the world ended, how are we talking?"

"I'm going to die now! I think that's what you want."

"You've changed"

"And you've stayed exactly the same"

"I'll be damned. We're doomed."

 For everyone's sake, you're not in love."

 "They always say it's lonely at the top. I didn’t think they actually meant it."

“Ignore all the criticism. You’re doing great!” 

"She's been like me this whole time. She's just been hiding it."

 "Of course I'm not okay! I've never been okay. But maybe I needed to never be okay for us to make this happen"

[the-kingshound]

might be long rant and it's more of a vent and i apologize for that but here it goes!!!

I'm the "let her be king" anon. I'm a non-binary person. And from the beginning, after finding TKH and playing it for the first time, I've enjoyed Arthur's portrait, and how despite being and feeling like a man, he still uses gender neutral pronouns. Because gender and pronouns are not mutually exclusive and it's very affirming and refreshing to see that being acknowledged!! When you started mentioning the possibility of transfem Arthur I was ecstatic!! more gender!! give it!! especially because you just portray gender in such a natural, humane way, as just another characteristic like hair color rather than a box.

Fuck historical accuracy, like you said we've always existed, and the world has been even shittier than usual lately, the last thing i personally want is to come online and be confronted yet again with what's expected of me as a (gender assigned at birth) and deviating from it will get some kind of reaction, especially when the story isn't even about societal issues.

it's just very comforting seeing it be treated so casually. I don't know if I'm making sense, I'm just so very grateful for your writing and your work. You're doing a great job, and I think allowing Arthur to be a woman and be King is right. Because it's just a title and at the end of the day, she will be erasing Uther's legacy as king in yet another way, and she'll be a better King than he ever was

i do have one question and that would be a curiosity! will transfem Arthur still use she/they pronouns or she/her exclusively?

First of all, I may be repeating myself, but knowing there are people like you who put that much value in my game makes me strive to keep writing and do the best work I can. Thank you❤

I am with you in that I often find myself seeking worlds where I can escape, especially now, the oppressing reality we all live in, TKH has been what kept me going for years, and more than that it perhaps reflects some aspects I would really like to see irl.

For your question: Arthur will use she/they pronouns, as they have very similar feelings on gender/pronouns male Arthur has!

[whoredyceps]

“Another word and I'll make you regret it.”

» you've tried everything to get a coworker to stop asking you out. not even human resources can help you. your only hope is din, who offers to play the role of a less-than-savory ex-boyfriend to get the guy off your back. will the punk tactics work?

» pairing: modern!din djarin x reader

» tags: creepy ass coworker, bouncer!din djarin, nondescript f!reader (brief use of she/her pronouns), threats of violence, vulgar language, no beta - we die like men

» author's note: i've been itching to write a modern!din fic and now that i have some level of creativity capacity back, it's over for y'all. i started writing this in a fever last night and haven't stopped.

"It's horrible. He just— he gives me the creeps!" You frowned as you leaned both your arms on the counter. Across from the kitchen bar, Din was at the stove. He nodded as he listened, his attention on both you and the risotto he was cooking.

"Why don't you go to Human Resources? Isn't that what they're there to help with?" Din glanced at you over his shoulder.

"I did! He hasn't actually done anything legally creepy, so there's only so much that can be done. It's like," you huffed as you got wound up again. "There's no reason the man should be passing my office, but he makes it a point to stop by my desk. Plus, he does this weird hand thing."

You hopped down from the kitchen stool to stand beside Din. He looked away from the risotto, just in time for you to grab his hand and hold it up.

"Pretend you're me," you explained. You proceeded to high five him, then wrap your thumb around the back of his hand. In short, you two were holding hands in the middle of his kitchen.

"So he just holds your hand under the guise of a high five?" Din raised an eyebrow. You nodded quickly, an exasperated expression on your face.

"Exactly! I feel like I'm going crazy, Din. Maybe he's just trying to be friendly in his own friendly way but..." You trailed off and pulled your hand away, your arms crossed over your chest.

"But what?" Din lowered the heat on the stove before he fully turned towards you.

For a man who looked like he had won every fight he had been in, you had only seen a softer side of him. Of course you had seen him angry here and there, but he was always friendly with you.

Two of you lived down the hall from each other. With the layout of the building, it was just the two of you on the floor. Din moved in almost a year ago, and you were thankful to finally have a normal neighbor. Over the time he's lived here, the two of you had become good friends.

"Can I be honest with you?" You leaned your hip against the marble countertop.

"Of course," Din assured you. He gave you his full, undivided attention.

"He scares me. Look, I know I'm not in any danger or have to worry that something will happen, but there's just something about him that makes me feel uneasy. I don't care that he wants to be my friend or wants to be pleasant. All I want is to go to work, do my job, then leave. I don't want to be his friend, or his anything." You didn't quite meet Din's eye as you spoke. It was something you hadn't been able to verbalize to anyone, at least not as well articulated.

"Have you talked to him about it?" Din asked. He was always one to be the voice of reason for you. While it was the logical step, he noticed the way you practically curled in on yourself. That wasn't like you at all.

"What if it's all in my head? Maybe I'm just reading into it, and I don't wanna stir up something just because I'm too in my own thoughts," you explained. "You know, maybe I am just—"

"Don't," Din cut you off. "If he gives you the creeps, that's reason enough."

You sighed and nodded. He was right, as he usually was. You watched him finish with the risotto while you grabbed two plates from the cabinet. The two of you worked in silence as you plated dinner and sat at the dining table.

"What if you told him you had a boyfriend? Doesn't that usually work?" Din broke the silence as he popped open a bottle of wine. You nodded, a small pout on your face as you held you glass to him.

"I had a bad morning and he kept pestering me about what was wrong, so I told him I had a crazy ex-boyfriend who came to my place the night before." You glanced out the window that the table was sat next to. It was small, made only for two people. Din wasn't one for company, so your presence always felt special.

"Was it actually a crazy ex-boyfriend?" Din asked. He watched you as you shook your head.

"Not even close. At least not any that live around here. I just had a shit night, but I didn't want to get into it."

You took a bite of the risotto, and your eyes fluttered closed. It tasted perfect. How Din was such a good cook, you weren't so sure. His meals were better than anything you'd had in a restaurant.

There was so much you both did and didn't know about him. He worked as a bouncer at a bar a few blocks down the road, and he slept most days. He had a cat named Grogu, but you just called him the Child. His apartment was clean and tidy while still full of bits and pieces of his life all over.

From what you had gathered, Din had traveled for most of his life and had many trades under his belt. Though he promised early on, when he first moved in, that he was here to stay. He was settled, and he wasn't moving again.

Not that you were complaining.

"Do you need a crazy ex-boyfriend?" Din asked. Your eyes popped open, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? I mean, no. I'd rather not deal with two creeps at once." You looked at him like he had grown a second head. So much for your voice of reason.

Din rolled his eyes and shook his head. He put his fork down, his dinner temporarily abandoned.

"No. Let me rephrase that. I'll come in to your job and scare him off," Din explained. "All he needs is the evidence, right?"

You mulled it over in your mind. As you did, you looked at the man in front of you. At first glance, he did have an aura that would best be described as 'rough around the edges'. Hell, he made you a bit nervous at first. Though it didn't take long for him to show that he was a softie behind closed doors. Doors you were lucky enough to find yourself behind.

"You'd do that for me?" You asked, a soft smile on your lips. Your heart squeezed when he gave a slight smile back.

"Of course. Anything for you to feel safe. That's all that matters to me." Din went back to his dinner, fork in hand as he looked down at his plate.

You felt your cheeks warm as you began to eat again. There was hope yet that you wouldn't have to run your coworker over.

Before you left Din's apartment, the two of you had come up with a plan. You would ask the guy to go with you to get lunch down the block, and Din would be waiting there for you. He'd look at tough and mean, and just give the guy a good spook.

"What if he keeps being weird?" You asked as the two of you stood in the doorway of his apartment. Din was leaned against the frame, his thick arms crossed over his chest. You wondered if he'd ditch the long sleeve to show his tattoos tomorrow.

"Leave that to me. If he's got two braincells to rub together, he'll leave you alone. The first sign of trouble after and you call me." That wasn't a request, and you were well aware of that.

"You got it. Din?" You held his arm as you kissed his cheek. "Thanks again for helping. I knew I could come to you." As you pulled away, you noticed how red the shells of Din's ears were.

"Anything for you. Be careful heading home." You rolled your eyes as he smirked. He said it every time you walked down the hall to your front door.

"Maybe that joke will be funny one day. Odds aren't in your favor today," you chuckled.

"Eh, I'll take my chances."

You gave his arm one last squeeze before you went back home. That night, you slept easier knowing you'd soon be able to go to work in peace. Worry still sat in the back of your mind, but you trusted Din. He knew was he was doing...

Right?

All the next morning, your stomach was in knots. You almost called Din on your way to work to call the whole thing off, but you knew he had probably just fallen asleep. No way you'd ruin his sleep because you were a chicken.

When you got to work, you asked your coworker if he wanted to grab lunch when it came time. His eager smile made your skin crawl. Maybe you were too in your head about it. Still, you just felt icky all over, no other way to put it.

Dread sat on your shoulders as you worked. With every glance of the clock, time seemed to move slower and slower. Finally, just past noon, you shot up and went to find your coworker. He gathered his things, and the two of you set off.

The walk was awkward enough. You tried to engage in conversation, but his intense gaze on you was too much. He brushed against you at one point, and you wanted to jump out of your skin. Instead, you remained composed as you kept moving forward.

You had chosen a cafe with an outside eating area. One that would make it easier for Din to be menacing without causing a scene in a secluded space. Your coworker opened the small gate to the eating area open for you, and you scooted past him. Without seeming to eager, you glanced around.

All at once, you froze. While you were relieved to see Din sat at a table, you still had to play the part. He was in a corner, leaned against the gate with his feet propped up on the wooden table. As soon as his eyes landed on you, he kicked himself off and stood.

For the first time since you met him, Din looked terrifying. He was his usual tall, hulking self but his demeanor was totally different. He wore a sleeveless tank and thick black jeans. You took in the sight—

Did he have snake bites? Did this man re-pierce his lip just for you?

Fuck, talk about dedication.

You were frozen. While it could be read as fear, it was definitely something that twisted your stomach.

"Oh my god, Din? What are you doing here?" Your voice wobbled as you slowly approached him. Din moved with such ease for a man who looked like he could lift a car with his bare hands.

"Who the fuck is that?" Din ignored your question, his finger pointed straight at the guy behind you. His voice was an octave lower than usual.

"He's a guy I work with," you sputtered out. "We're just—"

"Why the fuck are you with my girlfriend?" Din poked his chest and moved closer. Close enough that he almost barreled into you. Before you could catch yourself, he caught you with his free arm. His large hand was splayed across your back as his fingers dug into your side.

"She's not your girlfriend. Are you that shitty ex that gave her a hard time?" The guy asked, appalled at Din's mere presence. You glanced back at him to see a bead of sweat on his forehead. Good, it was working.

"Oh, I gave her something hard last night," Din smirked. As much as you hated to admit it, the vile words out of his mouth made your cheeks grow warm.

"Din," you warned in a low voice. "It was a one time thing. We aren't together." It was easy to fall into the role of the damsel, scared of what her ex-boyfriend was capable of.

"You heard her," your coworker snapped. "Get away from her, and let her go."

Din barked out a laugh, his hand gripped your side tighter. You knew you should feel scared, but truth be told, your brains and insides had turned to mush. He was hot all on his own, but right now? You'd drag him to the bathroom right now if there weren't more pressing matters at hand.

"Come get her yourself, you little piss ant. Wait, is your name Alex?"

Your coworker nodded and took a step back. Everything you had been through felt worth it in that moment, just to see the look on his face. If it wasn't inappropriate, you'd snap a picture to keep it forever.

Din released you, only for him to move you behind him. He stepped closer to Alex until they were practically flush against each other. He was a full head and a half taller than your coworker.

"So you're the one who's been following her around like a fucking freak? What, you think following her around like a sad little puppy is gonna get you in her pants?" His tone was almost humored, he was so astounded.

"Babe," you started, your hand stretched out to grab Din's toned bicep. He didn't hold back as he continued.

"Leave her the fuck alone. Speak another word to her and you'll regret it. If I find out you've been anywhere near her," Din grabbed his shirt and dragged him so close that their noses brushed against one another. "I will break your fucking legs."

"I-" Alex stuttered. He was frozen in his spot, his eyes searching for anything but the face in front of him. You watched as his feet struggled to stay planted on the floor.

"Yeah, that's what I though. Get the fuck out of here, and leave my girlfriend alone if you want both your kneecaps." Din shoved him back, hard enough for Alex to stumble as he was let go.

Without so much as a glance his way to see if he was watching, Din turned and grabbed for your waist. In one swift motion, you were flush against him and his lips were on yours. It was unexpected, but it sealed the deal. You almost heard Alex scuttle away, if you weren't so wrapped up in the kiss.

It seemed like an eternity had passed when you pulled away. Much to your disappointment, you did have to stop at some point. Din's hands still held your face, your bodies pressed together.

"Seemed convincing enough?" Din had a slight smirk once he was sure there was no sign of Alex. He noticed the dazed look in your eyes, the way you watched his lips move.

"If not, he's truly a lost cause," you sighed. Despite his appearance, he was back to your Din. In the blink of an eye, he went from an ex-convict with a taste for blood to the guy you made baklava with last week.

"He was a lost cause from the start," Din finally let your face go. "You okay?" He stayed near you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. Fuck, that kiss really put you through the ringer.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thankful I don't have to spend my lunchbreak with that guy," you sighed. Din perked up a bit and slipped his arm around your shoulders.

"Think you can stomach the time with me?" Din asked. You chuckled and leaned into his side.

"You know, my schedule did just clear up," you teased. Every casual touch, every part of you pressed against the man lit your sense on fire. How were you going to be normal now? Now that you knew what he tasted like, how his lips felt against yours?

"Atta girl." Din slipped his hand down to the small of your back and guided you into the cafe.

Needless to say, Alex hadn't looked at you since. If he crossed your path, he went in the opposite direction. You were able to work in peace, no dread from the minute you walked in to the moment you left.

All thanks to Din.

[staylovesmiley]

Going Dumb~ Chapter 13

₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Kim Seungmin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; It had been over a decade since you had last seen each other, having met in choir when Seungmin was living with his grandparents in LA and you with your Aunt. Now that you are both presented adults, how will he handle a change to the reality of you he had made in his mind in your absence over the years?

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Notes; This is an omegaverse!AU. in this world when someone reaches puberty they will present with one of three sub genders; alpha, beta, or omega. Due to Alphas and Omegas experiencing rut and heat, some jobs are restrictive as to what sub genders they will hire, specifically singling out omegas as heat suppressants are harder to obtain than rut suppressants. Scent glands are located near the pressure points on the neck and small hormonal patches called scent blockers can be placed over them to reduce or rid an individual of their scent for a period of time depending on the strength of the hormones in the patch.

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; omegaverse!au, beta!kim seungmin, almost all alpha!straykids, female!reader, poly!pack dynamics, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, smut, enemies to lovers, Kim seungmin is kind of an ass I’m so sorry dandy boy, she/her pronouns used for reader, jealous seungmin, I have only ever wrote one abo story before but it is one of my favorite genres so I hope I can do this justice~

In the months after your brief trip to the states for the Met Gala you watched as the boys prepared tirelessly for their new comeback. After making up with Chan and gaining a better understanding of where the fight with the alpha was rooted you both did your best to rely on each other more, and over time your place in the pack felt more cemented and you yourself felt more secure.

Finally, it was the day of the first performance after their new album had dropped. You were waiting just to the side of the stage about of view of any cameras while you watched your boys get into their positions after chatting with the fans in the audience. They looked incredible, the stylists really having outdone themselves once again enhancing the beauty that was your pack members. They all, for the more part, had new hair styles and carefully placed makeup that made them look so attractive you had to fight yourself not to stare for too long. Their outfits as well suited them nicely and as you watched them dancing on the stage you couldn’t help but find yourself lost in a trance like state, absolutely mesmerized by how they carried themselves during a performance.

Your eyes feel to Chan, cheeks heating up slightly as your mind kindly provided you with the memories of the night the two of you had shared together back in the hotel after filming the music video for the very song they were performing today. Of course it wasn’t unnatural for members of a pack to share intimacy of any kind, including sex, but since then nothing of the sort had happened between you and the alpha. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested, nor the other way around, you could see the way his gaze would linger on you from across the room or how his touches lasted a bit longer than necessary whenever you interacted with him. Things were just…too busy. They had so much going on in preparation for their album and the announcement of their upcoming world tour, none of you had time to even get a full nights sleep let alone find time for a quick fuck in between the rigorous schedules you all were kept to.

Then your gaze shifted onto Jisung and the reaction on your face was no better. He was the first in the pack to ever be intimate with you, and even though you had both been in a pheromone induced state of mind for most of it, seeing his lean muscles rippling under the sheer fabric of his top caused you to tug your lower lip between your teeth as memories of flushed skin pressed against your own and low moans echoing in your ear sent shivers down your spine. Unlike with Chan, there were no lingering looks or lasting touches from the younger alpha since your shared heat and rut cycle together. It wasn’t as if neither of you wanted it to happen again, or that you wanted to forget that it had, just that the bond that it had formed between the two of you was different. Han would often seek you out for forms of comfort rather than sexual gratification, snuggling in your bed or on the couch with you after a particularly stressful day when his mind was moving to fast and his thoughts began to overwhelm him. It’s not to say he was not attracted to you, nor that you weren’t attracted to him given your reaction to how he was currently devouring the stage before you like the ace you knew he was, just that the preferred form of intimacy between the two of you was softer these days.

When your eyes landed on Seungmin your heart sank to the pit of your stomach, watching as he seemed to struggle with the switch from his usual hand held mic to the one he wore hands free for this performance. You couldn’t quite tell what it was at first, until you noticed how much it shifted with every move he made and even bounced back to hit his face a few times. You could see just how frustrated he was and it made your chest feel tight as you wished you could rush out onto the stage and provide an immediate fix to the problem and alleviate his discomfort but unfortunately you were forced to sit and watch as the performance, and his struggle with the mic, continued.

The second the song ended and he was out of the camera’s view you watched as he ripped off the headset and made his way off the stage as quickly as possible. Stylists were on him in minutes, dabbing away sweat as the tech staff took the mic and his ear piece off of him carefully from where it hung loose around his neck. You slowly approach the beta as the crowd around him clears, the smell of soured laundry washing over you the closer you get and you frown as you cup his cheek with one hand and the other takes one of his to give it a gentle squeeze. “Wanna tell me what’s got you worked up, Minnie?” You speak softly, looking up into his eyes just as soft as you allow the sweet citrus of your own scent to surround the both of you like your own little bubble of security. “My stupid mic….it was shaking like crazy and I couldn’t focus-“ Seungmin huffed, clearly still agitated though he leaned into your touch instantly. “You still did so good, even better when you factor in that you were being distracted.” You hope your words are assuring to him as you allow the singer to pull you closer and nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck as his arms wrap around your waist securely. “I hope that’s how it seemed- I felt like I sounded like absolute shit. I’m never using a head mic again…” Giggling, you could feel his pout against your skin as one hand rested on his back and the other came to card your fingers through his hair gently. “I’m positive you did not sound like absolute shit.” Seungmin let out a whine as you pulled away, your hand taking hold of his once more to pull him into the green room and out of the quickly crowding hallways.

Once inside you pulled the sulking beta over to the couches and took a seat, motioning for him to join you. Seungmin laid with his head in your lap, your hands instantly moving to play with his hair as his eyes closed and the sour tinge to his normally calming scent slowly faded away. “Awe puppy you were that wound up?” Changbin teased playfully as he made his way over, taking a sip from the bottle of water in his hand. “You’re hogging our bunny.” The alpha’s pout caused you to giggle but Seungmin felt otherwise as he quickly sat up and pulled you into his lap protectively with arms wrapped securely around your waist. “I knew her before any of you so I have the right to hog her all I want.” He pouted, chin resting on your shoulder. From the other side of the room Minho scoffed loudly, eyes rolling as he made his way over to where you were both sitting. “You seem to forget how you treated her like absolute shit for the first…hmm I don’t know- month she was here? Your rights were revoked then and there.” He crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at the beta and you could feel the tension building rapidly. “Woah woah let’s all take a deep breath I’m a person not a toy you guys can fight over.” You huffed a bit, patting Seungmin’s hands that held you close to him before standing up and straightening your clothes that had rumpled slightly when he had pulled you into his lap. “Besides, you guys need to go work with your social media manager now so I’m gonna go head out and meet with stay. Behave.” You pointed a finger at the three men currently around you before giving a nod to Chan and a soft smile.

After your departure from the green room Seungmin pouted, curling in on himself as he sulked. “You didn’t have to bring that up again, Minho hyung…I’ve apologized and we’ve moved past it.” Minho sighed, sitting down beside the younger member and placing a hand on his leg in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “I know, pup…I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have said that.” The beta huffed a bit but moved to curl into the alpha’s side regardless, scenting Minho a bit as his own anxiety and frustration from earlier melted away.

While the members were inside filming TikTok challenges with other idols and taking behind the scenes photos for their instagrams, you made your way outside to where fans were waiting eagerly for the boys to come out so that they could maybe get a glimpse of them or a cute interaction if they were lucky. Once they spotted you, the boys trusted assistant and rumored member of their pack, chaos erupted as your name was screamed out in an attempt to get your attention.

Ever since your departure with the group to the Met Gala, dressed to match the members rather than the rest of their staff, fans had come to form somewhat of a parasocial relationship with you in extension to the members of Stray Kids. It helped that you were also not one to shy away from them, not having the same restrictions as the boys did when it came to responding to comments or doing as you were now…meeting with them face to face unplanned and taking pictures or gifts and letters to bring back to the boys. Stays generally seemed to have an appreciation for your bond with the members, and your willingness to bend the rules a bit to give them more access to them with the boys approval of course. You never shared anything that could get them in trouble, or that they didn’t want to be shared with fans, always running your responses to comments by Chan and any member it involved before posting them to protect their privacy as much as they desired and to not cause any issues like when you had lashed out at the paparazzi. Speaking of, the company had somehow swept the situation under the rug completely. You weren’t sure if they were paid off or threatened with legal action for somehow sneaking past lines to get back stage where they shouldn’t have had access, but regardless you were grateful they did so even if it was more for the image of Stray Kids rather than your own.

You took a couple selfies with stay that asked for it, still as shocked as the first time it happened that they wanted anything like that from someone who wasn’t an idol or even someone of higher importance like a producer or songwriter. The smile you held was genuine as you accepted a few gifts from stays as well, little charm bracelets or stuffed animals, sometimes letters. “I promise I’ll get this to them when we are back at the dorms.” You told them as you gave a thumbs up and carefully tucked the items into your tote bag so no managers would see and try to confiscate them before the boys got them.

Waving your goodbyes, you made your way over to where the boys and other staff were now exiting the building and loading up into the two cars that would take you all back to the dorm. “You feeling better, Minnie?” You asked softly as you took your seat beside him in the middle row of the second car. “Mhm, a lot better now.” He said simply, taking your hand into his own and giving it a little squeeze.

Back at the dorm, you immediately began passing out the gifts from stay to the respective members. When you approached Chan where he was going through his laptop bag at the kitchen table a wide smile broke out on his face. “Bunny! Got something for me there?” He nodded to the letter and small crocheted wolfchan in your hands and you nodded with a bright smile mirroring his own. “As a matter of fact I do! From stay, of course.” You held the gifts out to him but he simply took them and placed them on the table beside his bag before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. “Always taking such good care of us and stay.” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You let out a giggle, eyebrow raised at him. “Thank you?” Chan hummed, sniffing lightly at your hair before placing yet another kiss there. “Did you use Ayen’s shampoo again?” This caused you to snort out a laugh, pulling back from him slightly. “Yeah, why? Do you like it?” You swore something in his eyes darkened for a moment but his face was relaxed in a lazy smile and he nodded to your question. “I do, you should use it more often. It goes with your natural scent really well.” With that his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he began scenting you gently at first, but soon started to place slow kisses to the column of your neck. “Chan-“ you started, but were interrupted by a low growl from behind you. “Can you two get a room or something?” The hair on the back of your neck stood on end and you felt a chill go down your spine at the tone in the alpha’s voice, Minho having walked in and caught the both of you. Chan pulled away sheepishly with the tips of his ears burning a bright red. “Just needed to scent Bun after being around everyone at the broadcast station-“ The oldest defended, collecting his things quickly before retreating to his room, but not without one last longing look thrown your way that had the second eldest scoffing.

You eyed the alpha curiously, watching as he made his way to the fridge and grabbed himself a bottled water. He had clearly just finished showering with his hair damp and face bare of the makeup he had worn earlier for the performance. “You okay Min? You look a little-“ before you could finish your sentence he snapped, not even sparing you a glance as he brushed past you and back towards his own room. “I’m fine.” You sighed, arms crossing over your chest as you began following after him. “Minho don’t be like that…you know you can tell me when something is bothering you.” He ignores you, practically slamming the door to his room in your face before you could follow and attempt to interrogate him even further. “Well okay then-“ You couldn’t help but scoff, turning to leave when suddenly a hand shot out from behind and wrapped around your wrist. “Wait-“ Minho had cracked the door open just enough to stick his arm through and stop you from leaving. You rolled your eyes before turning back to face him. “So now you wanna talk?” He frowned, eyes downcast as he gently tugged you into his room. Once the door was closed and you both were safely inside he just stood in front of you while you once again crossed your arms over your chest. “Well, I’m waiting.” You heard him let out a little whimper, like a child being scolded, before taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry for shutting you out…will you please stay with me and maybe watch a movie?” His request had you fighting off a smile and failing, nudging his shoulder lightly as you passed by him and threw yourself onto his bed. “Thought you’d never ask!” You called to him from where you were currently burrowing under his comforter until only your head from the eyes up was visible. Minho swallowed hard, giving you a small smirk before joining you and booting up the projector above his bed that he would use as his tv in his room.

He had picked something random, not really paying attention as his eyes kept drifting to where you sat curled up beside him. Minho licked his lower lip anxiously, a habit he had picked up from Jisung, before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. You rested your head on his shoulder as you watched the movie, the smell of warm salted caramel swirling around your senses as you leaned into him more comfortably.

The alpha swallowed hard, your own sweet citrus washing over him mixed with the sweet florals of the shampoo you had borrowed from their youngest. Before he could take hold of his impulses he was leaning down to place soft kisses to the back of your neck. A giggle bubbled up from your chest as his hot breath fanned across your skin. His kisses didn’t stop there, having to tilt your head slightly as they trailed from behind your neck to the side where your scent glands were. “Min, you’re missing the best parts-“ You started to giggle again until suddenly you found yourself with your back pressed flat to his mattress, the alpha hovering over you as his kisses were mixed with little nipping bites to your neck as well. “M-Minho?” You stuttered a bit as one of his hands began rubbing your hip gently. It wasn’t until he left a rather harsh bite just below your scent gland that you placed the palms of your hands against his chest and pushed him back away from you. Minho went with no resistance, leaving you breathless still laying back against his bed while he sat in front of you with his eyes turned down and away from you. You could tell from the slightly burnt smell tainting his usually sweet scent that something was wrong and immediately sat up and moved to place a hand on his arm. “Min what was all that-“ He was quick to pull away from your attempted touch, curling in on himself on the farthest part of the bed without actually getting off of it.

You sat back with your legs folded underneath you, pulse still racing as you waited patiently, for what you didn’t know. You half expected Minho to bolt out of the room like a startled cat yet instead he spoke up softly. “Why not me…” Blinking a few times as confusion flooded your expression, you watched him carefully before responding. “Why not you? What do you mean?”

He took a deep shaky breath before speaking up again, this time a little more audibly. “Back at the hotel…when you came to see me- you kissed me back, didn’t you? I thought- I don’t know maybe there was something there…but then you slept with Chan hyung.” Your eyes widened and you went to deny it, though you weren’t sure why, but he stopped you. “Don’t. We all know you did…you don’t think we couldn’t smell it on you for like a week? And the way he’s been acting towards you after that-“ Minho ran a hand through his hair before looking down at his lap where his other hand worried away at the hem of his shirt. “I just- You kissed me back but didn’t want to go any further….just sleep. But with Chan it’s okay to go further? I get it- you know if you like him….if you wanna be with him- but I thought there was something between us too.”

You frowned, moving towards him slowly until you were close enough to pull his hands into your own. “Minho….look at me-“ he refused, immediately shaking his head with his gaze still stuck looking towards his lap. “Minho, please just look at me?” At your pleading he slowly raised his head and you saw the tears threatening to spill behind his eyes. “That night when you kissed me…I didn’t want intimacy- just your comfort. Chan was- that was a completely different situation than what had happened between us.” Your words didn’t seem to help as his scent soured even more. “I did kiss you back, though. Because I like you and I liked kissing you. In the right situation I would have let things go further, it just wasn’t the time…” the alpha sniffled a bit, holding your gaze as he seemed to be trying to decipher if your words were true or not before finally responding. “Then why not now? Is now not the time either? Will there ever be a time? You say you like me but it doesn’t feel like it…ever since you and Seungmin made up the connection we used to have feels like it’s more and more distant.” Your frown only deepened at that and you pulled him closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck gently despite the burnt scent he was giving off making you somewhat nauseous. “You and I will always have a connection that no one else will have. I understand you’ve been feeling neglected and maybe a bit jealous but sex isn’t the way to fix that.” You could feel his once tense body slowly relaxing against your own as you continued. “I’m not saying I don’t want you. The opposite, really…you mean too much to me to just fuck you in a whim.” That caused the alpha to snort out a laugh, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. “Language.” He teased, placing a kiss to the top of your head before flopping back down on the bed with you still held against him causing you to let out a little yelp of surprise followed by a giggle. “Lee Minho, you mean so much to me. There is no need to be jealous of anyone else when you were the friend I needed when I first came here, supporting and taking care of me like no one else did in the beginning. Even now.” This seemed to dispel the last of the lingering bitterness he felt, but the cherry on top was when you pulled away just enough to plant a gentle kiss to his lips before cuddling back up against him comfortably. “Now can we please finish the movie? And rewind it! I was really invested before you tried to maul me.” Even though Minho was blushing furiously he acted nonchalant, scoffing and rolling his eyes as he grabbed the remote and did as you had instructed. “Yeah yeah, whatever you say cutie.” You both relaxed into a comfortable silence, the only sound in the room was the movie you were watching though now you were the one not paying attention as you let the sound of his gentle heartbeat lull you to sleep in his arms.

It was three weeks later and things seemed to mellow out slowly. Yours and Minhos bond had grown stronger after your talk, his jealousy fully dissipating replaced with playful teasing towards Chan any time he clung to your side like a love sick school boy. Speaking of the alpha leader, his not so subtle advances and affection had all but stopped as preparations for their tour ramped up and new songs and choreographies had to be created, learned, and recorded. You practically had to drag him from the studio most nights and tuck him into bed yourself to make sure he stayed there and didn’t try to go back to working. Everything seemed to be running smoothly, though there was some mild stress regarding the impending concert. You were all on your way back to the company after attending a few different schedules and once you exited the van you noticed a group of about twenty or so stays crowded outside who started calling out to you the second you were spotted. “Hey guys I think I’m gonna go say hi.” You called out to the group as everyone gathered their things and started to get out themselves. “Okay just meet us inside when you’re done?” Chan said with a smile, pressing a kiss to your temple before you headed off towards the fans calling for you.

When you reached the crowd you followed the same routine as usual- accepting gifts and letters from the stays on the members’ behalf and even taking a few selfies while chatting with them and making small talk like asking how they have been and if they are eating well. Things were going smoothly until you got to a particular girl with a tiny wolfchan plush hooked onto her bag dressed in the cutest little crocheted outfit. “Hi! I love your wolfcha-“ You didn’t get a chance to finish as she swung with her right hand, the sharp acrylic nails she wore ripping into the delicate flesh of your cheek before her left hand grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled until she was inches from your face. “You disgusting ugly bitch!” She screeched, her grip on your hair tightening causing you to let out a yelp in pain. “How dare you steal Channie oppa from me you slut!” You winced, feeling the warm trickle of blood slowly dripping down the side of your face from where you had been scratched. “What do you have to say for yourself?! You stole Channie oppa from me and you have nothing to say for yourself?!?”

Hearing the commotion from the crowd, the boys all whipped around to see what was going on only to watch as one of their supposed fans yanked you around by your hair while screaming obscenely only a few inches from your face. Seungmin was instantly bolting towards you with Chan only a foot behind and the other quickly falling into step as well until their managers and one of their bodyguards blocking their path. “What the fuck are you doing get out of our way!” Seungmin barked at them, trying to shove past but to no avail. Chan and Minho, on the other hand, had to be physically held back as they attempted to get to where you were still being attacked.

With your hair still held in her fist and the barrage of insults never ending all you could do was stand there and take it, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to withstand the sharp pain in your face and scalp. “You really have nothing to say?! Speak, bitch!” You took a deep breath, eyes opening slowly to meet her furious gaze before looking to the fans beside her watching in horror with cellphones out recording the attack. “Did you get all that on video?” You asked through gritted teeth. The poor girl you spoke to nodded, her hands shaking slightly as she didn’t know what to do and was afraid to act lest she be the next target of the crazed fangirl. You couldn’t help but smirk a bit, eyes falling back on the girl in front of you just as the bodyguard not actively holding back the members came and pried her off of you. “I’ll see you in court.” You spoke calmly, voice almost icy cold with how void of emotion it was before turning and walking towards the building as if your hair was not a tangled mess and the side of your face wasn’t still painted red.

The boys stopped their fight to get to you, watching slightly dumbfounded as you made your way past them nonchalantly and into the jyp building. They all looked to each other before quickly following after you, finding you already waiting by the elevator to head up to their practice room. Seungmin was by your side in the blink of an eye, a hand gently placed on your lower back as his other hand cupped the uninjured side of your face. “Bunny are you okay- oh my god…” The beta gasped when he saw the full extent of your injuries. “I’m fine, Minnie. Let’s just get up to the practice room, yeah?” You give him a small smile, a sharp stinging causing you to wince from contracting the muscles in your injured face. With the elevator finally opening, you make your way inside quickly and they all follow suit silently but with so many questions swarming in their minds.

By the time everyone is upstairs and in the practice room all hell seems to break loose. The members are surrounding you, checking over you frantically. Some are cursing about the girl who had hurt you and the managers for holding them back from helping you sooner, Felix in particular is so angry his face is red and there are tears of frustration spilling down his freckled cheeks. You are trying your best to reassure them everything is fine when you feel a hand wrap around your wrist and pull you away from them. You turn to find the owner of that string grip to see Chan standing there with a storm brewing behind his eyes.

His brows are furrowed tightly and his nostril flared a bit, you can’t help but freeze. “Channie I-“ you start, worried this will be a repeat of last time you had gotten into a fight until he is pulling you to his chest and holding you firmly against him. “I’m so proud of you- you are incredible, you know that? You stayed so calm- you….you did better than I would have, better than I did.” You turn to look up at him confused, desperately attempting to not stain his shirt with blood. “I wanted to rip her head off- I wanted to get to you so badly but you handled it all so well. The managers are holding everyone downstairs until the police come for questioning and then we will need to meet with them too.” At his constant praise you feel your heart swell and tears brim in your eyes. Chan leans down and leaves a gentle kiss to your forehead just before one of the staff approaches you with a first aid kit.

He reluctantly lets you go, the alpha still hovering near by but it’s Seungmin who lets out a little growl when the staff starts to inspect your wound. “Give me that.” He practically snarls, all but ripping the kit from their hands before intertwining your fingers and dragging you out of the practice room with calls of protest from the other members yet no one stops you.

Seungmin takes you down the hall to the bathroom and locks the door with the both of you inside so you are completely alone. “Come here, I gotta clean you up first.” He commands but there isn’t much force behind his words. You move towards the counter where he stood but before you can get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror he is turning you around and lifting you up to help you sit atop the counter facing him. “Seungmin I can do it-“ you attempt to get down but he steps up closer between your legs before you can. “Let me, please?” You whine a bit, not able to say no to the soft pleading look he is giving you as he takes a few paper towels and wets them in the sink until they are damp. “Okay…I trust you.” He smiles and you feel like your heart skips a beat. Suddenly you are eight years old again pining after the cute boy from choir who you consider your best and only friend, suddenly you feel like you can’t breathe properly when he gets inches from your face and begins to gently pat away the blood from your wounds. When you wince he pauses briefly, his free hand moving to rest on your upper arm and the warmth from his touch causes your breath to hitch slightly. “You could have fought back, you know…not even Chan hyung would have faulted you for that.” His face is so stoic, hyper focused on the task of cleaning and patching you up and you can’t help but take this opportunity to admire him up close. “You may not have faulted me but the fans might disagree. It was better to just….let it happen and take legal action after.” He huffs a bit, shaking his head as he finally finishes cleaning the wound. The beta tosses the bloody paper towels into the trash before pulling an antibiotic cream out of the kit to carefully apply to the cuts. “Your safety is more important to me than stays feelings.” You frown, staring into his eyes but he refuses to meet you there, trying to stay focused but you cup his face in your hands until you can bring him to meet your gaze. “Kim Seungmin don’t say stuff like that. You love stay so much, of course their feelings are important to you.” He’s quick to respond, and the look on his face gives away that it was so quick he couldn’t stop himself and think his words through fully. “Not as much as I love you.” His tone was a bit exasperated, eyes wide as if he was trying to defend you from yourself but the second you both realize what he said you both freeze.

You both stay like that for a moment, silence surrounding you like a heavy weighted blanket until you feel yourself moving forward to press your lips against his own. You feel him hesitate and it causes you to panic and begin pulling away only for him to place a hand on the nape of your neck to hold you still as he presses forward to prolong the kiss. It’s so sweet, gentle…everything you hoped it would be since you were a child. When the two of you pull away slightly breathless he rests his forehead against your own. “I’ve wanted that for over a decade, you know…” His eyes widen a bit but then he’s chuckling, shaking his head as he pulls back further so he can finish dressing your wound. “I hope it lived up to your expectations?” The beta is trying desperately to act nonchalant but the reddened tips of his ears and his slightly shaking hands give him away. “More than, I’d say- Minnie…” Seungmin shakes his head, applying the antibiotic some more before adding gauze and medical tape to your cheek. “Let me finish.” You pout a bit, but allow him to finish as he had requested. However, you thought he meant finish with the bandages when he really meant his confession. “I’m not…good with this- I don’t think I realized how much I cared about you until recently…but I fear I am stupidly and hopelessly in love with you. I’d- I wanna take you on a date, if that’s okay…?” You can’t help but blink a few times, looking up at him in a daze before nodding enthusiastically with a soft blush flooding your cheeks. “I would like that a lot, Seungmin. But first…I think you should kiss me again.” This causes the beta to falter a bit, dropping the tape in his hands haphazardly into the first aid kit before you are pulling him back to you by fist fulls of his shirt.

You both kiss lazily, sweetly, for what felt like an eternity before making your way back to the practice room. Your hands held together in a way that feels right, a comfortable silence between the two of you as Seungmin grins from ear to ear unable to relax his face for even a second. Despite it all, everything was still going smoothly….at least for now.

author’s note; aaahhhh finally!!! Sorry I have been gone for soooo long life has been kicking my ass- but it feels good to be back! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it~ pls as always your feedback and reactions mean the world to me so lmk what you think!! ᕱᕱ₊˚⊹♡

taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @coastinglove @skzswife @maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @doitforbangchan @chartrucewhore @sebastianswhore13 @finnydraws @bahablastplz @0325tiny @motheraiya55 @confusedabouteverythings @hellevator-143 @ihrtlix @h0rnyp0t @katsukis1wife @emmxxsworld @tenshimara @im-sinking-in-mud @n1nme4r @nightcat101 @chancloud8 @corgilover20 @pizzalove5000 @bookswillfindyouaway

[rainbowxocs]

(Reference coming soon)

(CURRENT THIS REFERENCE IS BASED ON THE MYTH. I WILL UPDATE IT ONCE THE MYTH IS OVER.)

Written by meeee!!

Name: Evren Nevermore!!

Alter of: Daisy Bell!!!

Role: Protector!

Alt Names: The Void, The Skybox!!

Special Titles: The Prophet.

Username: lappelduvide!! It’s a pun. Hehe.

Nicknames: Little Raven, Prophet, Caesar, Brutus.

Age: 17!!

Pronouns: Any Pronouns!!

Sexuality: eh whatever.

Gender: eh whatever.

Species: Technically, I am the same species as Daisy but like- I am a void. What is a void? Great question!! I dunno cause I kinda made it up Im going to be so for real.

Disorders: I have the same disorders as Daisy.

Physical Disabilities: I have the same disabilities as Daisy.

Religion: Daisyism, obviously.

Job: My main job is to like, protect Daisy obviously, but also to keep track of the domain and make sure everything is like chill and stable and stuff.

Lives in: I live in the Skybox/Void.

Languages: I can speak any language basically. I mean I’m literally a computer I can just google translate everything it ain’t that hard-

Height: 6ft!!

Accent: Otherwordly, No Discernible Origin.

Voice Claim: Amethyst from Steven Universe.

Spirit Level: Acceptance baby.

Powers: I have the same powers as Daisy. I just tend to focus on like reality bending stuff, wind and sky stuff, prophecy is a big one, yknow that kinda thing.

Weaknesses: I have the same weaknesses as Daisy.

Strings Form: Myyy strings are white cause we gotta MATCH obviously.

Soul: Mycena Lazulina!!

Weapons: Windforce Sword!!!

Alignment: I am chaotic neutral.

Text Color: Blueee!

Main Animal: Ravens!

Main Hobbies: I don’t really have time for hobbies with all the work I gotta do.

Favorite Food: Apples. I don’t really eat so.. not much else..

Favorite Flower: Lily of the Valleys!!! They’re pretty. Also they’re the fancy flowers you get in animal crossing.

Scent: Blueberries.

Handedness: Ambidextrous.

Blood Color: Good luck stabbing me to find out. It’s probably red though.

Awareness: Oh I am very aware.

Birthday: Same as Daisy, December 20th.

Theme:

Battle Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Facts: She knows all, She sees all, She speaks all.

Special Interests: Greek Mythology, Philosophy, History!!

Stims: Playing with clouds, flying around, spinning!!

Stimboard: [???]

Moodboard: [???]

Fashion Board: [???]

Comfort Objects: Im not a child. I don’t have any.

Here’s the part you really want to know yeah? WHAT ARE EVRENS OPINIONS ON YOU PEOPLE.

Family:

Cosmo. I feel absolutely no feelings towards this man I think he is stupid and he calls me little raven which IS RUDE. (0%)

Kriston. …he’s my dad… can we STOP TALKING ABOUT IT NOW. (100%)

The Cranes. They all seem like decent people. I haven’t met most of them.. but they keep Daisy safe and protected.. and that’s all that matters to me. (100%)

Jessa. SHE MIGHT BE MY MOM I DONT KNOW WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME SO MANY QUESTIONS GOD. (100%)

Ebro4. I go back and forth on him. I think he is a good man but he often gets.. blinded by more than his blindfold.. (30%g

Zailyn. I respect her a lot. She has done a lot of good for Daisy and protects her well. I can’t really complain about her really. (50%)

Friends:

Grat. I like Grat!! He’s a very silly demon. I have fun playing with him. :) (50%)

Zan. Zan is neat, I find her to be pretty funny. (50%)

Alice. Alice is funny, me and her often play together. She loves flying on my clouds with me. (50%)

Star. Star is neat!! I really enjoy them.. They are kinda like my personal hype squad.

Mouse. I respect her. I haven’t really interacted with her much directly due to our paths never really aligning. (50%)

Sleuth. Clockhead is funny. I like that.. he takes care of us though.. he- doesn’t have to do that.. (90%)

Romance: Aculia. Her system included in this of course. I.. really.. love her.. I- trust her wholeheartedly.. I would die for her.. (100%)

Therapist: Jonah Francois. Jonah is alright. I have no issues with him, I just am a little bit antsy when I have to bear my neck for someone.. (80%)

Enemies: Enemies is a bit of a strong word. This is more “people I disagree with on a fundamental level spiritually and emotionally”

Camilla. Okay maybe I have one enemy fuck this bitch I hope she dies in a fire. (0%)

Radio. I cannot forgive him for what he has done to Daisy. I fundamentally disagree with everything he stands for. Chaos above all else is meaningless. (0%)

Venus. If he truly thinks he can contain and control me then he is more of an idiot than I thought. (0%)

Emily. I understand why she did it, but I don’t know if I can forgive her for it. (0%)

Brief Personality: [wip]

Brief Backstory: [wip]

[moonlitcelestial]

Chapter 11

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x OT8 Ateez

W/C 8,491 

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

☽ Masterlist ☾ 

Inspiration Pictures

Pinterest Board Masterlist

Previous Chapter (Chapter 10)

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez, Atiny, or anything relating to what I do not know about being a videographer.

Contains she/her pronouns.

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

I strongly recommend looking at the inspiration pictures and the Pinterest boards (which will be updating as the story goes on).

General Warnings: slow burn, cussing, conflict, angst, fluff, and obliviousness. 

CHAPTER WARNINGS - Angst and conflict.

Let me know what you think! <3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

You woke up the next morning before your alarm went off. Fucking typical. Taking in your surroundings you felt a warm presence at your back, you turned yourself around to look at Mingi. He was out like a light. His gentle breath was fanning over your face with how close you were. You took your opportunity to study his face. He is absolutely breathtaking. His skin looked so soft in the small amount of artificial light that was filtering through the curtains. He looked so relaxed and at peace. You were half tempted to brush some of his stray fringe away from his face. Just as you were about to do what your intrusive thoughts were telling you to. He made an incoherent noise before mumbling “You know it's rude to stare.” He peeked his eyes open to look at you. Your eyes met his beautiful chocolate brown ones before you realized what was happening. Your brain short circuited. You scooted your head and shoulders back as far as he would let you. He chuckled and squeezed you closer to him, cradling your head and bringing it back to his chest. He tucked you under his chin. 

“We need to get up soon, I think we have about ten to fifteen minutes before my alarm,” you grumbled.

“That’s ten to fifteen minutes I can spend cuddling you to make you feel better. After yesterday I never want to see that side of you again; if we can help it.” you could feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke. That was more soothing than you thought it would be while reading those smutty romance novels. 

“Thank you again for checking on me. I didn’t realize I needed it.” Once you were in that kind mindset typically all you wanted was to be left alone. Your team could pick up on that and that is probably why they hadn't come to check on you. They were very good at respecting the boundaries you had set the first couple of times you got like this. 

“I would do it again in a heartbeat,” he said, kissing your forehead. “You are a part of our family now so you can come to us about anything.” Your heart swelled, this man was the definition of perfection. He knew what you needed to hear and what you needed in general before you even knew yourself. You just laid next to each other basking in the other's warmth for the next few minutes. Your quiet moment was interrupted by your alarm. You had forgotten that you set the alarm to be their song Wake Up. Giggling, you rolled over and turned it off. He grumbled and got up out of the bed after you turned around. You grabbed your glasses and did the same. You stretched your hands over your head and groaned when your back popped like a glowstick. 

“Are those my lyrics?” Mingi asked in surprise. You turned around to look at him. He was already staring at you. You hadn’t even realized that your shirt rode up enough for him to see your lyric tattoo. He walked around to your side of the bed and looked at you with the softest look you had ever seen. His hands were held up to his chest like he was keeping them at bay. “Can I see?” 

You nodded, turned to the side a little, and lifted your shirt just enough for him to see his lyrics in your handwriting. He bent at the waist to peer down at the tattoo and ran the tips of his fingers over it, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You felt a chill go up your spine from how gentle he was being. You fell even harder for the man standing in front of you. 

“Out of all of the things, why did you get this?" he asked in a soft tone; his eyes never left your hip. 

“It's a reminder to myself that I am a strong independent woman. That in the end I will always be with myself even when others leave. That it is just me, myself, and I.” You said quietly but loud enough for him to hear.

“Well, I can assure you it isn't just you anymore. You have all of us. We will always be here and you can't get rid of us that easily.” He spoke looking at you through his eyelashes from where he was bent over. “Whose handwriting is that?” he asked after a moment's pause.  

“It's mine. I took so many tries to get it to where I liked” It had taken you almost an hour orf rewriting the words over and over to finally get it perfect. Aurora had teased you for it later because you did it on the old company's time, but you wouldn't change it for the world.

“Your handwriting is beautiful.” You wanted to respond that he was beautiful, but you held your tongue. You didn't need to add a half asleep confession to your long list of fuckups. 

“Thank you, Mings, all of this means the world to me.” You took a step away from him as he straightened to his full height. “You better keep this secret, I don't need the others to have more ammo to use against me.” You joked, you could see how Hongjoong would let it go to his head already. Something that he helped write and produce being tattooed on someone he knows. Especially because you had this long before you met them. 

“I will do my best, but you know things have a habit of slipping from my mouth without thought.” You laughed. You could feel yourself getting back to normal all because of this man. Today was a new day and you couldn't wait to enjoy it to the fullest. Mingi left after a quick hug and a kiss to your forehead. He promised to not say anything unless given express permission. You were left to your own devices and decided to take a quick shower before going downstairs for a very early breakfast. After doing your body wash shower you slipped on your Sleep Token tee and your basketball shorts. You topped the look off with your black rose Nikes, rings, and a necklace. After about twenty minutes you made your way downstairs and were met with a lobby full of eight very energetic men getting breakfast. You were actually ahead of schedule, which surprised you considering Ateez was involved. 

The moment you stepped off the elevator Wooyoung yelled your name, getting the attention of anyone in the vicinity. You froze and all of their heads whipped to look at you. You caught Mingi's gaze and he smiled widely at you. You had donned a mask and ball cap just in case but you knew that any one of them would recognize you because of the tattoos. You hadn't even realized one of them moved until you were scooped up off of your feet by San. You squeaked and laughed as he spun you around in a circle like he was reuniting with you after months of not seeing you. He set you down and threw an arm around you bringing you to the rest of the boys and crew. Once you got close enough you greeted all of them. Each of them smiled at you warmly, You returned the gesture behind your mask, you knew they would see the wrinkles at the corner of your eyes. They didn’t push for you to sit with them, almost in silent understanding that you needed to check in with your team. You could see your team huddled up at a table toward the back of the breakfast area. You grabbed your food and walked toward your team, you owed them an explanation. Yuhno grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze as you passed him. You squeezed back and continued on your way. 

“Good morning,” you said sitting in the open chair. They all looked up at you as you took your mask off. You could see the relief in their eyes, you knew you worried them. 

“Are you doing better today?” Willow asked, looking at you with curious eyes. She was nursing a cup of coffee with a half eaten waffle on the plate in front of her. 

“Yes, after the conversation in the car about terms of endearment I fell into my old horrid habits. It also upset me that I haven't found the love that you guys have and I am older than the three of you. It made me think about how all of the people have settled and gotten married and have started having kids; hell even my mom remarried. I was just jealous in a sense. I'm sorry about the way I acted yesterday. I know I shut you out and that you were worried, but I didn't know what else to do.”

Aurora reached out to grab your hand on the table. “We are sorry too, we know that is a touchy subject for you and we joked about it at your expense. I want you to know that not dating is not your fault. It is the stupid people that havent seen your worth or have used you for their bigger goals. You are gorgeous and powerful and you deserve all of the love in the world. We want you to realize that you have us and eight very beautiful men that are here for you when times like that strike you do not have to go through that alone.”

“Old habits have a tendency to die hard. I know I still have some that aren't healthy.” Willow solemnly added. 

You smiled at the girls with watery eyes. They were two of the best people you had in your corner. “Actually, my plan to isolate myself didn't work out so well.” You looked over your shoulder at Mingi who had sat facing you. He caught your eyes and smiled before resuming a conversation with Yuhno. All three of them looked at you tilting their heads. 

“What happened?” Forrest finally spoke. His green eyes were trained on you taking every minute expression in. He always tended to stay out of the emotional things within your group but he knew when to step in. Thankfully this time wasn't one of those times.  

“Mingi came to my room and comforted me.” You said as you turned back to the group in front of you. “He knew exactly what I needed without me having to ask. He ended up cuddling me to sleep, and to be completely honest it was the best sleep I have had in a while. I'm not sure if it was because of him or because I wore myself into exhaustion.”

“You don't sleep well even when you are exhausted. It was totally him.” Willow smirked into her coffee. 

“Fuck off, I’m still processing,” you said flipping her off and stabbing the waffle you had in front of you. “I might have come to a realization in the middle of my haze last night before I fell into the old habits, if I tell you you have to act normal.” The three of them nodded at you. You motioned for them to move closer, they did and you took a deep breath. You had to do this before you lost the nerve. 

“I might be in love with them.” Willow choked on her coffee and almost spit it out onto you. Aurora smiled at you and held out a hand to Forrest. He grumbled and pulled out his wallet. You watched them in horror as he handed her a twenty. You felt the heat rush to your face, they bet on you. 

“You fuckers,” you whisper yelled. All of them laughed at you and looked up at something behind you. You felt hands settle themselves on your shoulders. Jumping slightly in your seat you tilted your head up to see Seonghwa. Once you realized it was him you relaxed. He rubbed your shoulders lightly as he spoke.

“We are about to head out to get things started this morning.” You glared at your team. They laughed at you and nodded at your silent request to keep this between the four of you. You tilted your head back to look at him to find him already looking at you. You smiled at him and leaned into his stomach with your head. He widely smiled at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You looked back at your team and they were smiling at the two of you. 

“I need to go grab my backpack but after that I will be ready.” 

“I can go with you up there, I need to grab something too,” Seonghwa said, running his thumbs over the back of your shoulders. 

“Okay, let's get going then, I don't want to hold you guys up.” You stood and his hands slipped from your shoulders. Grabbing your trash from the table you could feel the others watching you intently as you walked over to the trash can. You stuck our tongue out at them before you pulled up your mask and turned the corner out of their sight. You heard a chorus of laughter. Seonghwa was a couple of steps behind you and you could feel his hand at your back as you waited for the elevator. Once it dinged you hit the button and looked at him, when the doors had fully closed you wrapped your arm around him and pulled him into a side hug. 

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“She seems to be in better spirits this morning.” 

“Does that have anything to do with you sneaking out of her room this morning?”

“Maybe, maybe not, I am not at liberty to tell you the specifics.” 

“Okay, I am just happy that whatever you did helped. Not hearing her speak or seeing her smile last night really worried me.”

“She has a control over us that she doesn't even know she has.” 

“We are all so whipped for her and we aren't even in a relationship with her yet.” 

“Hopefully in the near future we can change that fact.”

“Y'know for attempting to whisper you guys are very loud.” 

Every one of the boys jumped at the statement. They looked at your team with sheepish smiles. 

“Can you blame us? We can't get her out of our heads.”

“We know, just a heads up, she is the same way with all of you.” 

The team watched as they all lit up. All of them had the widest smiles on their faces. They were looking between each other and some of them grabbed each other to steady themselves. It was then that your team knew they loved you. 

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“You worried us, I am happy you're back to halfway normal today.” Seonghwa said squeezing your hip.

“You have Mingi to thank for that, he comforted me when I didn't even know that I needed it.” 

“He has always been able to tell if someone needs that kind of comfort. I hate that he had to learn that because of his own issues, but it has made him the amazing person he is today. Him and Yuhno are probably the most experienced of all of us in that aspect. We have had to lean on them a lot, and they would love for you to be comfortable enough to do that with them too.” 

“I know, I just hesitate to let anyone in, even my team. I can however tell you that I am more comfortable with all of you guys than I have been with anyone since my team came together.” 

The elevator dinged and you walked out with Hwa. He let go of you to step to the room next to yours. You must be on the far end of the three rooms they got for your team. You unlocked your room and looked over the state of things that had been flung in your numb state last night. Your clothes were all over the dresser, the bag haphazardly flung on the floor away from it. You looked to see everything plugged in, but some of them were not on the chargers you normally used for them. You saw the camera bag and laptop bag on the desk thankfully you had half a mind to not treat that like shit. You walked over and grabbed your bags, slinging them over each shoulder. 

You reached down to grab your phone and realized that it was exploding with notifications. You opened it to look and noticed an article. Clicking into it you saw some tabloid posted an article of you and your team walking into KQ. The header read, “Could we be seeing a new group from KQ entertainment?” You read through the article and laughed loudly at the absurdity of it. They had snapped several pictures of you and your team carrying things in the building on your first day from weeks ago. The article speculated that you were going to be debuting a secret project with Ateez. This was the most entertaining thing that you had seen. You silenced your notifications and grabbed your smartwatch. putting it on you started back to the door. You stepped into the hallway and saw Seonghwa waiting next to your door. He looked up from his phone and smiled at you. You could tell he was tired. 

“So get this, someone took a picture of my team and is speculating that we are the newest group to join KQ.” you said as a way of greeting. 

His eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“Look at this,” you said, whipping your phone out and going to the article. He scrolled down to read the entirety of the article before letting out a loud laugh. His laughter was contagious and it sent you into another fit of giggles. Both of you were hanging onto each other. You heard the elevator ding and you both straightened up and then looked over to see Hongjoong. He looked at you two curiously like you had lost your minds, noting the silver lining both of your eyes from laughter.

“What's going on with you two? It's been like ten minutes since you disappeared.” You handed him your phone and he scrolled. He chuckled and handed it back to you. “Come on, let's go to the vans. We can discuss this more soon.” 

You nodded and straightened following Hongjoong, Seonghwa a step behind you. You saw Seonghwa reach out to Hongjoong and clasp his hand giving it a squeeze as they smiled at each other. As the elevator dinged Hongjoong brought Seonghwa’s hand up to his mouth to give it a quick kiss. You smiled at them, their simple affection was something you admired about them. It was rare that you saw any of the boys do anything close to PDA because you were almost always in public with them. Either that or they were in front of a camera. In these quiet moments you saw the love they held for each other. 

The elevator dinged and you stepped out first. You were blinded by flashing lights, you shielded your eyes and saw people lined up outside. You turned to Seonghwa and Hongjoong and ushered them back into the elevator. You quickly pushed the button to the next floor up. They looked at you weird as you did so. 

“Someone must have leaked the hotel we are at. There are a shit ton of people out in front of the lobby. I didn't see anyone else so I assume that they are already out in the vehicles or went somewhere more private.” You sighed as you readjusted your bags that shifted with your quick movements. “I have been in this kind of situation before and sadly it never ends well. We will have to find another route out to the cars so we don't get mobbed without your security.” 

The elevator dinged and all of you stayed on while you pushed the button for your floor. Thankfully it was high enough up that people wouldn't be able to see any of the boys. You looked at both of them and Hongjoong looked pissed. If steam could come out of someone’s ears it would definitely be happening right now. “We were told this hotel was safe, specifically because they had security everywhere and it was in a rural location. We were assured that this would not happen. That's why we weren't covered or just staying in our rooms for breakfast. This is fucking ridiculous.” Hwa squeezed his hand and he looked quickly at his lover. His shoulders dropped just slightly. 

You placed a hand on his other bicep squeezing slightly. “We will be okay, I am sure that your managers and security will have this covered. We need to get a hold of someone and have them come get us. I know you must be worried about the others, I am too, but we have to be calm and rational so we can get back.”  

The elevator dinged again and you were met with several pairs of eyes looking at you. There were two people guarding the doors but they stepped aside to let the three of you pass. You took in everyone standing in the hallway, there were three people missing. Forrest, Aurora and Willow. 

“Where is my team?” you asked, stepping off the elevator. Forgetting about the two that were behind you. 

“We got mobbed in the parking lot by sasaengs (a term for an obsessive fan who invades the privacy of idols, I couldn't find a specific name for ateez antis, let me know if you know it), they fell behind and got a little scraped up. They are okay, just shaken up.” A man in the middle of the hallway said not even looking away from his phone. When he did finally look up at you he was looking down his nose at you, like you were just some crazy groupie. He must have been a manager, but in the few weeks you had been here you had never seen this man before, nor had you been treated like this. You already did not like this man, especially because he looked strikingly like your father.

“Excuse me?” You asked, rage was lacing your voice. You saw some of the members tense slightly. In the time they had known you, you had never taken that tone with anyone. They all had the common sense to look a little frightened of you, all except for the man in the middle. 

“That is putting it lightly,” Yuhno scoffed. You looked over to him and he didn't look happy either. He was holding onto Mingi’s waist protectively, Mingi had his back facing you huddled as close to Yuhno’s chest as he could be;  he must have gotten shaken up too. Wooyoung and San were standing next to them with their arms crossed. Yeosang and Jongho were toward the back of the hallway. Jongho was holding Yeosang’s hand while they were speaking in hushed tones. For him to be doing that so openly around people that weren’t your team and the boys must have meant something really bad happened. 

“What actually happened?” You asked, turning back to the person who spoke, you were really trying to give this man the benefit of the doubt. You set both of your bags down gently next to the wall closest to you. He scoffed at you like he did not owe you an explanation. You felt the anger flare. Alright, if this was how he was going to play then game fucking on, “If you do not tell me the truth in the next ten seconds we walk, and you will be responsible for losing a very good asset to the company. I am sure that the CEO would not be very happy. This is a fucking safely hazard for everyone involved and I absolutely will not be putting my team in danger. Especially after the tabloids are posting and assuming we are a new group.” Shock rolled across the faces you could see. You felt Hongjoong and Seonghwa come up behind you. You could only imagine the pissed off looks the both of them supported. The boys looked at the manager and he didn’t speak. Most likely out of fear of the repercussions that he was about to face, or because the boys behind you were equally pissed looking. This man was not going to be the kind to admit what happened, you knew it. If he was anything like your father he would deflect. 

You could feel the eye roll from Yuhno, “After Hongjoong went to get you we were heading to the cars when we got mobbed. Your team got pulled back through security and thrown aside so the sasaengs could get closer to us. One of them grabbed Yeosang and several of them grabbed Mingi and tore up his clothes. Thankfully San and I were close enough to stop it otherwise it would have been worse,” Yuhno spat toward the manager. You looked at him in shock. You looked at Mingi more thoroughly and you could see the small holes in the sleeves of his shirt and the collar was stretched out. You looked at Yeosang who was almost curled in on himself. It felt like all of the air left your lungs. Absolutely the fuck not. You stepped up to the manager and got in his face. He was just taller than Yuhno and Mingi which made it even better when he took a small step back. This was your chance to finally put someone like your father in his place and you would take every opportunity to do so. You pulled the rage from the depths of your soul and looked back at the man.

“We were focused on the boys and not letting them get hurt any further. We couldn't do much for your team after they got yanked back.” the man in front of you said trying to cover his ass. You seethed, this wasn't just about your team anymore, it was about your boys too. 

You could feel the anger seeping from every pore of your body. The heat rises through your back to settle on the nape of your neck. You took another look at the man, he had some small semblance of fear flicker across his face before putting his mask back on. “Do you hear yourself right now?” You practically yelled, “My team aside for the moment. They,” you motioned to the boys standing scattered in the hallway. “should have never gotten hurt in the fucking first place they are the people you are literally paid to protect!” You resisted the urge to grab his face and make him look at the boys. You knew that if you did it would have made things worse. 

“Did you even fucking protect them? Look at how shaken they all are.” You threw your arm out motioning to them again. You watched as he quickly glanced at the boys around him. 

“For fucks sake look at Mingi, do you not see the holes in his sleeves or that his collar is stretched out? It took one glance for me to see that, have you even looked at any of them? Do you not see how terrified Yeosang looks? You spared a glance in his direction and he was watching you with wide eyes. Jongho had a similar look on his face, only he was supporting a small smirk. 

“Do you not have any common fucking sense? You created a bigger opening by letting my team get snatched, and look what fucking happened. What the fuck were you thinking?” you shot rapid fire questions at the man standing in front of you. You had stepped up to him again to get in his face and started poking him in the chest with the end of each question. Each jab into his chest made him take a small step back. He may have been taller than Yuhno but it was your turn to look down your nose at him. You had half a mind to put this man on his ass in front of everyone, to showcase how incompetent he was. 

“This could have been so much fucking worse. You should have done a more thorough investigation of this place. The boys could have gotten seriously hurt. You are really fucking lucky that I am employed by your company and not the other way around otherwise this would have been an entirely different situation. If it were up to me all of your asses would be fired.” you said, shoulder checking him to go to the room you assumed your team was in.

“That was so hot.”

“Now is not the time.”

You walked in to see Forrest standing by the beds. Thankfully he seemed to be okay. You looked at the girls who were sitting on the bed. You gasped as you looked at them. Both of them had scrapes and bruises all over their arms and what you could see of their legs. You walked up to them and took them in further, thankfully everything looked cosmetic.

“We are okay, Y/N. We made it back quick enough that nothing else happened. No thanks to the fucking security guards.” Aurora said with a scoff. 

“They only targeted the women within the group didn't they?” You asked Forrest. He nodded.

“Motherfucker,” you ran a hand through your hair. “If we do not get new accommodations and a new security team we are not participating in the shoot. I am so fucking pissed, this is not okay, if it were up to me all of them would be fucking fired.”

“We know, we heard. You sounded hot.” Forrest said with a chuckle. You looked at him and cracked a smile. He always knew how to lighten the mood. You sat down between the two of them and pulled them into a gentle hug. After a few minutes you heard a light knock on the door Forrest opened the door and Seonghwa and Hongjoong entered. 

“We need a team meeting, can you two get around okay to come to our suite?” Seonghwa asked, looking over the two sitting on the beds. Aurora and Willow nodded as they struggled to stand, you could immediately tell that they were going to be super sore. You followed the couple to their suite, the rest of the boys were scattered around the room. They all winced looking at Aurora and Willow. You gently helped them to sit down on the portion of the couch that the boys had left open. 

“I have spoken with the CEO, in light of the events the current security team has been fired and temporarily the Xikers security team will be escorting us. We will not be continuing the shoot today, it has been postponed until tomorrow. This will put us behind schedule but I don't think any one of us wants to do it after the incident today. We will be moving to another hotel as soon as it is safe to do so. We also want to make sure that everyone is feeling a little better by that time.” Hongjoong said, looking at Aurora and Willow and then back to Yeosang and Mingi. 

“We will also be putting out a statement to help curb the rumors that are going around about your team. Hopefully that will help the insanity that happened today. If not, we discussed the possibility of hiring you guys your own security,” Hongjoong said and then he turned to look at you. “We also wanted to thank you for stepping in and defending us as well as being half way level headed. I don't know if I would have had the same restraint.” 

You snickered at them and said, “that's calm, I have been worse. Generally I am okay, but when it comes down to the people I love and the projects I do it gets personal. I had half a mind to lay him out on his ass, just to prove how horrible at his job he really is.”

“She actually decked a guy for getting too close to me once, she has really leveled out since then," Willow cut in with a chuckle at the memory. He was being far too pushy at a bar and wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

“She has also done the same to someone for calling me and my husband slurs.” Forrest piped up. That one was while you were out and about with all of the couples from your team. He cornered all of you in a mall and while Forrest held back his husband no one thought to do the same for you. You socked him and walked over his body on the ground and left the store. 

“Hey, both instances were absolutely called for and you fucking know it.” you said crossing your arms with a smug smile. “I have lots of surprises up my sleeve.” They all looked at you with wide eyes. 

“Y/N’s anger issues aside,” Seonghwa said with a smile thrown your way. “We are so sorry that this happened, and we sincerely hope it doesn't happen again.  We will be staying here tonight and then leaving tomorrow first thing. They are getting together the security team as we speak but it will take some time.” 

“Okay. As long as we don't leave the floor I don't have an issue with staying. I will warn you, if this happens again, we are going to break the contract. While I enjoy being with you guys I am not willing to put the safety of my team at risk.”

“We understand, and really hope that it doesn't happen again.” Hongjoong responded. 

“I hope so too.” You said looking over to your team. 

“Y/n?” You turned to look at Yeosang, who had seemed to have recovered a little. 

“Yeah Sangie?” You questioned tilting your head in curiosity. The more you looked at him the more you could see how horrified he looked, while he may have recovered a little it was still noticeable in his posture. He was making himself as small as possible against Jongho. He had arms protectively wrapped around himself as if they could shield him from everything. 

“Thank you.” He said in a small voice. Your heart shattered at the look on his face. Before you could think you had walked over to him and squatted in front of him. You took one of his hands away from his arm and settled it in both of yours. You could feel his tremor, it was most likely significantly worse from everything that happened. 

“Yeosang, as long as I am around I will protect you and everyone else in this room with my life. I truly care about all of you. You guys have become a part of my family as I have become a part of yours. We have not known each other for very long but I would not trade this group for the world.”

“You mean that?” He asked you, looking at you with the biggest eyes ever. He looked like a small child. 

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” You said taking a hand away to put on your heart. He let go of your other hand and threw himself off of the couch at you. He knocked you on your butt but you caught him and hugged him back. You could feel the wetness of his tears seep through your top. 

“I was so worried about you from yesterday, and then all of this happened and I was so scared.”

“I'm okay, Yeosangie, I'm right here and I don't plan on going anywhere. You guys have me as long as you will allow. I was worried about you too, as soon as Yuyu said that they got you and that they got Mings I was so pissed. I couldn't stand the thought of any of you getting hurt. You are okay, I am okay, we are all okay.” You stroked his hair as he cuddled into your neck. After a couple of minutes you could feel his breath starting to level out from its erratic pattern. You looked at Jongho who was sitting next to where Yeosang used to be. He nodded at you with a small smile. You smiled back at him and looked at the rest of the men you could see. They were all smiling at you and Yeosang. 

He pulled away from you and looked at you. You cupped his cheeks wiping his tears away. You put your forehead against his and rested there for a minute. You pulled away from him and placed a kiss on his forehead. You got up first and helped him get up and settled back next to Jongho. He curled into him and smiled sweetly at you. 

You looked at Mingi next, he was sitting on a loveseat with Yuhno across the room. Yuhno had an arm round his shoulders and was holding his other hand. He still looked pissed. You slowly approached the both of them. Mingi had changed clothes since the last time you saw him. You could see the tear tracks on his face. As you got closer you held your arms out in a silent question. He looked at Yuhno and separated himself from him to get up. He practically threw himself at you much like Yeosang had. He had curled himself around you and was slouched to fit his head in the crook of your neck. You felt a few tears start to seep into your top. You gently stroked his hair and rubbed his back. 

“I've got you. Everything is going to be okay, I promise. I'm here in silent support if you need me,” you whispered to him. He started sobbing at your words. Yuhno stood up and wrapped the two of you in his embrace. He was to your side closest to where Mingi had rested his head. You heard another couple pairs of footsteps approach you. You turned slightly to see San with Wooyoung trailing shortly behind him. They both wrapped themselves around you and Mingi. San was on the opposite side of Yuhno and Wooyoung had taken up the spot behind Mingi closest to San. Mingi had started to calm just slightly but you could still feel the lingering pent up tension in him. 

“Mingi, we are here. There is no judgment, you can let it all out.” He almost collapsed, his knees had given out. Thankfully you had enough support from the other boys that they slowly helped you lower him to sit on his knees on the ground. You had sat on your knees feeling the twinge from your surgery site but you didn't care. More footsteps approached you and you assumed the rest of the boys were coming over. You felt Seonghwa first, he had come up next to Yuhno. Jongho was directly behind you and pulled you slightly to let you lean some of your weight on him. Yeosang had come up and was between San and Jongho.  Hongjoong was the last to get there, he put himself between Yuhno and Wooyoung. 

You all leaned on each other. You rested your head on Mingi’s. You felt each pair of arms around the pair of you. This smallest part of you relished in this feeling, knowing you most likely would not have something like this again. You felt Mingi’s breath pick up just slightly, he was falling further. You pulled your head away from him, almost knocking into Seonghwa and Yuhno. You gently started running your fingers through Mingi’s hair again making sure to apply a slight pressure to keep him from falling too far. 

“Listen to our hearts and breath Mingi. We are all here, your loves are here, you are protected here with us.” You stopped speaking and reached into your mind to remember some of the ways you pulled yourself out of this state. The first thing that came to mind was the sensory countdown. “I need you to tell me five things you can feel.” it has worked for you, maybe it can help him. 

You heard him attempt to take a deep breath, “I feel your hand in my hair, I feel Wooyoung’s heart against my back, I feel San’s arms around me, I feel Yuhno’s arms too, I feel Hongjoong’s cool rings against the back of my neck.” between each thing he listed his breath stuttered, he was trying to regain some sense of control. 

“Perfect, now I want you to tell me four things you can hear.” 

“I can hear your voice, I can hear your heart, I can hear everyone breathing, I can hear the air conditioner.” You hadn't even heard the small whine emitting from the air conditioner until now. He had caught something you didn't, which was a good sign.

“Good job Mingi, what about three things you can see?” He picked his head up slightly, everyone adjusted to look at him. Some of the boys had let go and were just sitting close. 

“I can see you, I can see Yuhno, I can see Jongho.” You saw his eyes becoming clearer. Tears were still falling but they were nowhere near as quick as before. 

“Perfect sweetheart,” You tucked some of his hair away from his eyes. Cupping his cheeks and slid your thumb across the wet skin trying to get rid of the tears.

“Now two things you can touch.” You watched as his eyes started to clear. He was coming back to you. 

“I can touch your hand and I can touch Sannie’s hand” He reached up and put one of his hands over yours on his face. You smiled at him as he leaned into your touch. You looked down to see San holding his other hand, Mingi had a white knuckled grip on him but he didn't seem to mind in the slightest. You smiled at San and looked back at Mingi. 

“Good, now I know this one is weird, but one thing that you can taste.”

“I can taste my salty tears.” He had looked up at you fully now. His tears had stopped and his breathing had returned to somewhat of a normal level. His eyes were red and his face was puffy. 

“Hi, welcome back to us, I am so proud of you.” You put your forehead against his, he was still leaning heavily on you. Thankfully Jongho had been supporting the two of you. You heard some of the boys get up which made you lose some of the warmth that had started seeping into you. The only ones that were left sitting with Mingi were you, Jongho, and Yuhno. Yuhno got up first and helped Mingi stand. You watched as he supported him, Mingi wobbled as he stood. You scooted away from Jongho and he got up shortly after. You knew you would need a minute to get a good feeling back in your knees so you stayed there. Jongho lingered until you asked him for help. He wrapped his hand around yours and tugged you up with ease. His hands were slightly callused from holding a microphone so often and from playing the guitar. You smiled up at him and squeezed the hand that held yours. He let out a small smile and let go to walk back to his previous spot next to Yeosang.

“So, since the rest of the day has been cancelled, what are we going to do? We can't really leave the floor.” You looked over to Willow. 

“We could have a movie day or a game day, I know Y/n brought her switch!” Aurora chirped. You turned and looked at her with a smile. 

“I like that idea," Mingi said with a hoarse voice. Your heart broke again. You walked over to the small fridge in the kitchenette and grabbed him some water. You brought it back and smiled at him when he thanked you. You might have to ask someone about going to get some throat soothing tea later. 

“Whatever the princess wants, the princess gets," Yuhno said with a pat to Mingi’s shoulder. You could feel the playful eye rolls from all of the rest of the men surrounding you. He was most definitely the one that did most of the spoiling of Mingi. He definitely deserved it after this morning. You had walked back over to your team and sat down in front of Aurora between her knees stretching your legs out. Forrest still seemed to be on edge because he had not sat down. You looked up to him and raised an eyebrow in question.

He sat down beside you between Aurora and Willow and grabbed your hand. “I really did not like how today was handled. I feel like it would have been better if we had you there. Then I know they would have been taken care of.” 

“I understand, we will all go together from now on, they can focus on the boys and we can focus on us and if need be we can focus on them.”

“I almost stepped in to give them a piece of my mind, then I heard you and was relieved. I really did not want to step in or get Asher involved.” He said solemnly. He had a tendency to rise to anger very quickly. He was also just as protective as you, if not more. Generally he always lets you handle most things but if it came down to it he would get involved. Typically it did not end well for both parties if he stepped in. 

“Yknow, Asher might actually come in handy in this situation, maybe he can make some recommendations about a good security team.” You thought back to when you had first seen Asher in action. You first saw him on TV protecting a high level government official while he gave a speech. Forrest tended to watch anything that he could to be able to see his husband; even if he was not remotely interested in what was actually happening. 

“I'll think about talking to him, even if it would be to find us just one other person. Sadly you can't protect all of us.” You smiled at him and squeezed his hand. You knew that he was always stressed about situations like this, especially seeing the aftermath on Asher. 

“Come on, quit chattering and let's watch a movie.” Seonghwa said, turning on the tv. All of the boys collectively meandered over to the large couch as Seonghwa picked a comedy movie. You stayed seated on the floor with Forrest and Wooyoung sat on the other side of you. He grabbed your other hand and started running his thumb over the back of it. 

“I am glad you are feeling better after yesterday. I'm also glad that you handled the situation today; I think Joongie-hyung would have tainted his idol image if he handled it.”

“Like I told Sangie, you guys are my family, I would do anything for you.” He squeezed your hand and rested his head on your shoulder. 

The rest of the day consisted of many snacks, movies and some games. It may have started out absolutely terrible; but when you are surrounded by good company any day can be made better. After several hours and many corny and cringy movies you had finally retired to your room. You did your nightly routine and crawled into bed. Hopefully your body will cooperate with you and let you sleep tonight. 

Once you finally relaxed you started floating between dreams and reality until someone was knocking on your hotel door. You turned to look at the light outside. There wasn't any other than the artificial light of the streetlamps. You kicked the comforter off of you to the foot of the bed and groggily dragged yourself up and to the door. Looking through the peephole was not an option because you were as blind as a bat without your glasses. You unlocked the deadbolt and opened it to squint at whoever it was that disturbed you at this early or rather late hour. Wooyoung and San. They both looked tired but you could tell that they hadn't been able to fall asleep. You stepped aside and let them into the room without a word. They walked past you and made themselves comfortable leaning against the headboard of your bed. You closed and locked the door again before making yourself at home between the two of them. 

“Couldn't sleep?” You yawned. 

“No, we were struggling and figured you might be too, so we came over here cause misery loves company right?” Wooyoung quietly responded with a light chuckle. He had grabbed your hand and started fiddling with your fingers. That was another habit you noticed he picked up like Yuhno. No matter where he was or who he was with he always had to have some kind of contact with someone; and he had gravitated toward you more as the time passed. 

“You are always welcome with me no matter the time.” You murmured looking between the two of them. You had really come to appreciate their quiet support of your absolutely horrendous sleeping schedule.

“We really do appreciate you, noona.” San yawned. You looked over at him right before he laid his head on your shoulder. You could tell the both of them were getting closer to sleep the longer they sat with you. 

“Come on cuddlebugs, let's lay down and all try to get some sleep.” They shifted downward first and once they had stilled you shifted downwards and laid on your back. Wooyoung grabbed the blanket at the foot of the bed and threw it over the three of you while you moved to get situated. Both of them shared a glance before they moved to lay against you, San wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. Wooyoung had thrown his leg over one of yours and cuddled closer to you. You had shifted both of your arms to hold onto their shoulders. Their heads were resting on your chest. You had half a mind to start playing with their hair. They intertwined their fingers together over your stomach. You smiled at the two of them. You knew that they were made for cuddles but you hadn't expected this; maybe a few little things here and there with you, but never something this intimate. 

You could feel their breathing even out. The even rhythm finally allowed your body to be lulled into sleep.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Next Chapter (Chapter 12 Coming Soon)

Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Thanks for reading! <3 Moonie

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[cal-daisies-and-briars]

1k for 🛑

Hell yeah!

---

This is actually a really complicated question, even though the answer is strictly yes. Yes, he is single. Yes, he does not currently have a partner to whom he has any agreement of exclusivity. However, he does have this date coming up that he hopes means he’ll never be single again, so…

“No,” Buck answers.

Ravi looks at him, frowning. 

“What?” He asks. 

“Totally taken,” Buck continues with the lie. His mouth starts moving before his brain has a chance to consider any consequences. “Uh, in fact, I’m-I’m married.”

Ravi’s jaw drops. 

“Married?” The girl asks. “You’re not wearing a ring.”

Buck looks down at his own hand. Shit.

“Uh, well,” Buck scrambles. “Metal rings aren’t allowed on the job. Could, uh… Melt. In a fire.”

“Oh my god?” Ravi says under his breath. 

“I really am married,” Buck continues to lie like an insane person.

“She’s lucky,” the woman grumbles.

“He. Him,” Buck corrects, like the pronouns section of a social media bio. “Eddie.”

Ravi coughs. 

“Okay, cool,” the woman no longer looks interested. “Good for Eddie.”

“We have a cat,” Buck keeps on going.

“You have a cat and a husband?” Ravi asks. 

“Yes, Ravi. As my coworker and friend you know all about my cat,” Buck glares at him. 

“Oh, sure,” Ravi nods. “Remind me of the cat’s name again?”

“Its name?” Buck repeats.

Ravi nods. 

“Ca… C.. Christopher.”

“You named your cat Christopher?” The woman asks.

Ravi bursts out laughing. 

▪️▪️▪️

Ravi can’t keep his damned mouth shut, and before long, everyone is laughing about Buck and his husband Eddie and their cat Christopher. Even Bobby. Like, okay, can they get some professionalism in this workplace? 

“I was trying to get her to leave me be!” Buck insists. 

“And you couldn’t have just said, no?” Hen asks.

“I told you I’m tired! I’m not thinking right,” Buck complains. 

Chimney pulls out his phone.

“Chim, what are you doing?” Buck asks. “Don’t tell Maddie.”

“I’m not telling Maddie,” Chim assures him.

“Phew,” Buck mumbles.

“I’m calling Eddie.”

“No!” Buck pleads. “No, no, no.”

“Hey, Eddie!” Chim says, then turns the phone on speaker.

Fuck.

“Hey, man. What’s up? Aren’t you working?” 

“Yeah, we’re working. We just have a fun Buck story we think you ought to hear. Considering you only missed it by a few shifts.”

“Chim, please,” Buck begs. 

“Hit me with it, Chim. Don’t listen to him.” 

Not very romantic pre-date behavior, if you ask Buck.

“This girl starts hitting on him at a call,” Chim says.

“No, no, no,” Ravi interjects, scooching his chair closer to Chim’s. “Let me tell it.”

“Yeah, poor Ravi was a witness,” Chim adds.

“This very drunk woman calls Buck pretty and asks him if he’s single, and Buck panics, makes up the lie that he’s married, and can only think to say that his husband’s name is Eddie and that you share a cat named Christopher.”

Buck is frozen. Oh god. Eddie is going to cancel their date.

Through the speaker, Eddie starts to laugh. 

“What the hell, Buck?” 

“I’m sorry!” Buck blurts. “I’m sorry, Eddie. My brain is… Not working.”

“Why would Christopher be a cat? You couldn’t have just said child?”

Buck blinks. 

“Uh… Well, I said cat before I thought of a name, and then I couldn’t think of a name.”

“That’s the part you object to?” Chim asks.

“Yeah, say kid next time. My son is too dignified to crap in a box.” 

“So Buck can use you as his fake husband again?” Ravi asks.

There’s a pause while Eddie presumably considers his next words.

“I’m more than willing to be the reason Buck never dates another person he meets on a call,” is Eddie’s answer.

Buck can’t help it. He thinks he must swoon. He feels his cheeks go red. His stomach flutters. He grins and looks down, holding back a legitimate giggle. 

“Wow,” Chim mutters, looking at him. “Well, gotta go, Eddie. Can’t wait to have you back. Someone else needs to deal with him.” “Looking forward to it.” 

Saturday

Buck goes home from his shift the next morning and crashes. Hard. He sleeps for several hours longer than his usual post-shift nap. He really needs the rest. 

He wakes up to several missed texts from Eddie. His heart hammers as he reads them.

Now that you’re off shift… 

Husband, huh?

Buck?

You’d better be napping.

Buck texts him back that he was, in fact, napping, because he was very tired, because someone chose nighttime to ask him on a date and leave him too excited to sleep. Which maybe is not a chill thing to text before the actual date. Whatever. What dignity does Buck have left after what Chim and Ravi put him through? Very little. 

Instead of replying to Buck’s fic, Eddie calls him. Buck yelps a little when the phone starts vibrating. Like Eddie is a scary caller. He’s gonna answer the phone and ask him if he likes scary movies. 

Buck takes a deep breath and answers. 

“Eddie?”

“I’ve really got you flustered.” 

“Don’t sound so smug,” Buck grumbles.

“Oh, no, no. I like it. How many times have you teased me for not having game?” 

Damn it. That’s true. But, in Buck’s defense, Eddie is a mess around… Around women. 

“Oh my god, are you gay?”

Eddie laughs. “I asked you on a date.”

“I agreed to the date, and I’m not gay,” Buck points out. 

“Well. Okay. That’s true.”

“But you, like, suck with women,” Buck says. “And you’re being so smooth with me. It’s ridiculous.”

“Uh… Okay. I’ll take that as a poorly communicated compliment. Yes. I am gay. I… I had a lot of time to think in El Paso. Sophia helped.”

[bitegore]

:D

I really like all of this, especially how much of a focus it sounds like you have on replayability!! What with so many endings and so much that can be discovered on reruns. However, it all feels really trapped as a game itself? Which I love. It allows players to learn just about everything there is about the murders (which I think the scenarios mechanic is esp good at reinforcing this), but that's most of what a player can ever get from the sounds of it. Try as they might, play over and over again and again, the satisfaction of uncovering everything about Erica and Haven will be just out of reach. And that adds to the helplessness!! In a way, it feels like a reminder that this is a game contained to a plot, but the antagonists are so much further beyond it. They're so much more than the plot, and therefore, they're so much more than both the player and their experience.

i really like how you put this! Which is funny, though, because I do intend to have, like, an extra-secret-you're-not-really-supposed-to-do-that bonus "win condition" if, specifically, you kill Haven/tutorial guy and then kill Erica (because after doing that, the game will continue on as normal for three game 'days' and then people will be like hey what happened to that guy whose farm you bought. where'd he go. and then erica will come Get you.

But I can't decide if that should mean everything continues as normal infinitely (which would mean I run out of material) or like, if then you should get a different system-shock - that without Erica and Haven pulling strings, this situation is hideously untenable, because the bad-guy you're supposed to be playing economic wargames against is getting all of his money from investing abroad, and you are running a farm.

Also maybe when i run out of material I'll j;ust write "in the future..." style endings for every main romance and call it quits there, LOL. Like i do want it to be rewarding at that point theoretically, even if the point is to pull the rug out from under the player LOL

Oh!!! And it's a really nice touch to have the route where you help Erica murder and the one where you don't both have the same ending of getting framed. Considering how many tries it would probably take a player to get the 'murder with Erica' route, and that they would probably get the other framed ending in that time, it would feel like a horrific punch in the gut to do everything right, go back to the farm, and then proceed to get a very familiar not-quite-cutscene!! Absolutely miserable sounding to play, very smart.

YESSSSSS... yessssssss you get it :D I even have a bit in my notes for like, prelim/planning dialogue that deals with this, too, because it's the only thing that changes if you take the accomplice run (w/ placeholder pronouns):

ERICA: Let's leave them alive. THE REDHEADED MAN: Oh, really? ERICA: Yeah. ERICA: Who's going to believe them if they about us? THE REDHEADED MAN: Ha! True. ERICA: And when they come to find out why everyone's dead... if you fought her: ERICA: ...well, it's not like they were any help. if you were an accomplice: ERICA: ...hell, they killed half of them off themself!

No concern or anything. She just didn't kill you and keeps not killing you, that's the best you're getting. Evil foxgirl </3 she doesn't love you after all </3

What is just as much of a punch, but less miserable, is how Erica's ranged attack for a stalling player and Haven's complimentary dialogue are basically the same thing? At least that's how I view them. Both would horrifically catch a player off guard, and they feel almost as if they're taunting the player for not paying sufficient attention?

Absolutely. I want especially Haven's lines to all be kind of like... something that makes you raise your eyebrows, every time he says anything. Like of the game, I want the tone - at least until mid-game - to be... maybe not, like, saccharine but like edging into that like "cozy fantasy" space where people are nice and even when they don't like you they're not, like, mean about it?

And then the first thing Haven says when he's not like briskly explaining what a plant is is, like... you're chatting up the baker's wife (who is cheating on her husband with you in her romance because i think it's fun that way) and he's like. [looks up from where he's standing by the wall] "Her husband definitely knows she's fucking around behind his back, but he still gets mad every time he hears about it? What a loser. He should just watch and jerk off like the rest of us" or something like. Abruptly weirdly crass for a guy who isn't allegedly one of the Crass Asshole NPCs, genuinely judgemental and mean, and like... just visibly operating on a slightly different logic that is not so nice as everyone else is.

And Erica kicking rocks at you is just me punishing cowardice rather than not paying attention. But it IS because she loves needling people, you're right, it is some needling-type behavior. The kind of combat system I want to do, though, if you go AFK around Erica she just kills you. Not turnbased. You can't hold still without having her Get you.

but as for the dialogue, it makes me imagine that the easiest way to stumble upon it would be afk-ing around Erica- as she sounds unlikable enough that I have a hard time imagining someone wanting to spend enough time with her to get that line/lines (at least not on a first run).

I'm assuming this is about the like, murder route dialogue? In which case - I do actually have a lot of thoughts about the reasons why you'd want to talk to specifically either Erica or her brother, given they're supposed to be your enemies. Both of them give you "trade secrets", which are like mechanically important for the farming part, and the more friendly you are with them, the more they're going to give you - but the brother is more loyal to his family, so he has to be at a certain level of "liking you", whereas Erica will tell you all sorts of things even if you barely know her. Also all of this is late-game dialogue - which is after she's dropped her nice-person act and is during, like, cutscenes with story importance. Before that, she's... well, I wouldn't say she's that interesting, but she ideally would have some charm points and come off nice, which is why peppering some of that stuff in would (I think) be less odd than it might sound in description alone.

As a side note, do you have any place or tag to find out more about your characters? I see your art of them frequently and really enjoy it, and this has only piqued my curiosity more. :]

I'm working on being a little less precious about my lore! I wrote up a post here (it's a lore primer i originally wrote for my subscribestar) that covers the basics and the "plot" these two and one other, later character who is also involved in, actually have going on - but at the moment most of it is on my subscribestar. which costs money. like i will absolutely link it still but it costs money. I guess i've also tagged a bunch of posts with them and tag commentary, but that's not a great way to actually Get It so much as to get, like, a baffling baffling baffling picture of some bizarre as hell characters.

one day i'll finish writing a single story with these people and then i'll be able to share stuff for realsies :3

Stardew Valley-inspired Erica animation, drawn sometime in January while I was sick as a dog. This took ages, and all because I wanted to animate the bloodstains moving properly. The framerate isn't even quite right lol.