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untoldstar · 26 days ago

Text

yandere tentacle monster x fem! reader part 2

warnings: yandere themes, obsessive behavior, mentions of watching reader, nsfw content, use of toys.

part 1 here

You sigh as you flip through the tv channels, nothing seeming to catch your interest.

It's been a week since that night.

After everything, you almost instantly fell asleep from the sheer exhaustion taking over your body and woke up without a trace of him confused and alone. For a few seconds, you thought it was all a dream. But the sharp ache between your legs and the red marks all over your body were proof enough of how real it was.

At first, you were relieved he was gone but then you realized you had so many questions you deserve to have answered.

It wasn't fair for him to just disappear like that.

Every night since then you'd stay awake a little longer than usual thinking he'd show up again but..he never did.

And you were getting antsy.

You switch off the tv and shift your gaze to the unopened box lying on the coffee table. You hate to admit it but that night awakened something in you. You felt like you couldn't just simply go back to normal so..you made a purchase.

You drop your head in you hands and shake your head "This is so embarrassing.." you peek at the box again. It wouldn't hurt to try..right?

You finally snatch the box and head for your bedroom.

You whimper as you shove your fingers deeper inside you.

You quickly found out you're going to need a lot of prepping if you're gonna fit that inside you.

You had the pink tentacle dildo you recently bought propped up on the floor behind you while you were on your knees pumping your fingers in and out of you. You kept thinking of the long tendrils that were all over your body, caressing you, squeezing your flesh. You thought of his deep voice that sent shivers down your spine.

When you felt you had enough you slowly retracted your fingers shuddering at the loss. You adjusted your position and lifted up your hips to line yourself up with the tip.

Slowly, you lowered your hips until the tip was inside you. You let out a shuddered breath and kept going biting your lip at the sharp stretch. You were halfway down but it already felt good.

You mewled and rocked your hips slightly letting out a soft moan.

Your thoughts drifted back to the tentacles that filled you up that night reaching parts you never thought they could.

You needed more.

You pushed your hips down and further and groaned at the stretch "Need some help, pet?"

Your body froze. You tilted your head to the side and you could see black tendrils heading in your direction "How rude of me, dropping by unannounced when you clearly had your own plans." His tone drips with smug amusement and the realization hits you.

The voice isn't echoing in your head anymore, you can hear him. Here.

You look back and see him. His long black hair, his upper body taking a human's muscular frame while just at the end of his torso the flesh slowly darkens as it leads to his lower half of tentacles.

His flesh is almost translucent, the matching dark veins visible.

"What are you doing here?" You try to toughen up your act but the quick beat of your heart betrays you.

You're excited.

He moves closer behind you "Thought you might have missed me.." His breath fans over your ear and your breathing becomes shallow as you feel his cold hands sneak to your hips "I was right.." He chuckles "I didn't miss you-" You yelp when he pushes your hips all the way down "Of course you did pet. Why else would you bring such a thing to your bedroom?" You pant struggling to focus on his words while the fullness of the toy overwhelms you.

He only waits a few seconds before his hands start guiding your hips up and down, you grip his hand "hah- ah fuck what..what are you doing" he huffs "Isn't it obvious, pet? I'm helping you. It's the least I could do after leaving you in such a state." Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your head drops back "I mean clearly you were so pent up you had to take matters into your own hands." His quiet for a few seconds, only the sounds of moans and heavy breathing filling up the room "I'm sorry pet" He mutters and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and you think he might actually be sorry.

After a while you start moving your hips on your own, bouncing at a faster pace. Your moans get more high-pitched with each thrust "You're getting loud, pet." He growls "Tell me, is it reaching the deepest part of you? Does it reach all the places you want to be touched all at once? Does it compare to me?" his grip becomes bruising on your hips and you sob shaking your head "No-no no It's not big enough..need more-ah!" He hums approvingly and one of his hands slides down to rub your clit "Then cum pet. Cum so I can give you exactly what you want." His fingers keep working on your clit and your thrusts become sloppy and frantic before your entire body finally shudders as you come. Your legs shake but he pushes your hips down again pumping all of your cum out. You whine and squeeze his hand to tell him you're overstimulated. He finally stops and gently pushes your hips to free you from the toy.

Your body goes limp as you try to catch your breath "Are you ready now?" You pant "For what?" You squeal when he flips your body around. his hand gripping your thighs to keep you spread open for him "For me." Your eyes travel across his body until they land on his leaking slit, the tip of his cock poking out.

He smirks "Touch it, pet." You hesitantly lower your hand and gently rub the tip his cock only for the entire length fill up your hand. You feel your breath catch in your throat as you slowly stroke it, taking in the full length.

He was huge and you could feel the underside have ridges that made your mouth water at the thought of how they'd feel. Without even noticing you start to stroke him faster earning you moans and growls of approval before he grips your wrist "That's enough for now pet." he moves your wrist away and slaps his cock on your cunt a few times and your cheeks heat up at the vulnerable exposed position you're in.

He slides his cock up and down your slit a few times before finally pushing the tip in. He groans and you see his eyes roll to the back of his head "I've wanted this for so long pet you have no idea." You let out a long loud moan when he jerks his hips in one long thrust his entire cock now filling you up "I had to watch from the shadows. Watch you go through all of those pathetic men who couldn't satisfy you not like I can..No more. You're right where I want you now pet." His hips move at a steady pace and you jump when you feel the tendrils travel across your body while two switch between kneading your breast and pinching your nipples "Hmm do you like them?" Your eyes flutter open and you struggle to understand what he means until he nudges his head to the tendrils. You frantically nod your head "Yes~ah I do!" A tendril caresses your cheek affectionately and he hums "They like you..very much." He huffs and the corner of his mouth lifts up "You seemed so needy with that toy..surely this isn't enough for you." he spreads your legs wider and your entire body squirms when you feel a tendril softly prodding you from behind before slowly entering "Is it pet?" You whine and shake your head he chuckles before his eyes land on the discarded toy, you're too consumed by pleasure to notice the dark sour expression on his face or the way his grip becomes firmer on your hips "You never use such a thing again." he snaps his hips in a rougher and quicker pace "Understand?" Tears stream down your face and you sob as you feel another orgasm build up. He slows his pace to an agonizing one "I asked a question, pet." he growls and a cry breaks out from your throat "Yes! I won't ever use it!" He hums and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he returns to pounding you at an inhuman pace "Good. Cum for me again pet. Show me how much you wanted me all this time." Your high-pitched moans and cries echo throughout your apartment as your orgasm completely shakes you. You hear his breathing become uneven and his cock twitching inside. He cums after a few snaps of his hips, his cum filling you up to the deepest part and mixing with your own release. You stay like that for a few seconds before he pulls out pulling a sharp gasp from the both of you.

The both of you lay down on the floor not bothering to get up just yet and as your breathing turns steady you feel your eyelids start to get heavy only for them to snap open when you feel him shift to get up "Where are you going?" alarm fills your voice and he only laughs "I'm going to get you cleaned up and in bed, pet." you blink "Oh." Embarrassment fills your chest and you feel warmth spread over your cheeks "I'm not leaving you pet. Never. You're mine forever."

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necrotic-nephilim · 2 months ago

Note

"I think you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to." - JayTim

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

god this one is so good. this idea just. sat in my brain goo for days until i had the time to write it. this takes place like. right around Search For A Hero and before Battle for the Cowl, i would say, with dead Bruce and all, but before Red Robin. very fucked up one-sided feelings bc Jason is Jason and i love him. it's like 3.6k words and my partner edited it for me so. enjoy <3

It took Tim longer than it should’ve to notice the change.

With Bruce gone, Gotham was in upheaval.

No matter how much Tim did, there was always more. A new villain to fight, a new gang to take down, a new murder to solve. Gotham knew that the Batman was gone, for good this time.

Which meant they knew someone, something, could kill Batman.

That made Tim the fresh meat to go after. If the Batman could be killed, it shouldn’t be any harder to take down his Robin. Tim knew that every villain would want a piece of him and he had to prove himself. And for a while, he did. Tim was personally targeted by rogues, ready to be the Joker to his Robin.

Then it changed.

No one was pulling their punches, necessarily. But there was a change. Gangs that once had no problem facing Tim down were running in the opposite direction. Rogues gave up too easily, with an amount of fear in their eyes that didn’t quite match Tim’s reputation.

He should’ve noticed it sooner.

Tim knew something was wrong, at least. But he’d been so slow to notice it; now he was scrambling for answers. He’d interrogated half a dozen thugs and none of them gave him anything. Tim used every trick Bruce had taught him and still. He had nothing. It was just confirmation that they were hiding something. He was missing something, and he had nothing to show for it.

It reminded Tim of how the tide receded right before a tsunami- a quiet, deadly calm rolled over Gotham.

Someone was pulling strings. Someone was going right over Tim’s head, probably planning a big attack to sweep Tim undertow to drown in the chaos. And Tim didn’t have a single lead.

Waiting was always the worst part.

And still, the fires in Gotham burned. Whatever was going on kept getting pushed to the back burner so Tim could stop everything from human trafficking rings to street muggings. He knew he was stretched too thin, too exhausted to hold himself up.

It was a matter of time before Tim got pulled into a merciless riptide.

He just didn’t expect it to be in some grimy alley, losing a fight to a second-rate mob that jumped him.

Tim should’ve gone back to the Batcave when his shoulder got dislocated an hour ago by Harley Quinn instead of just setting it and carrying on.

He should’ve called for backup an hour before that, when he had to face all the Gotham Sirens on his own, leading to the chase with Harley in the first place.

And he definitely should’ve stayed home from patrol altogether, with ribs that were still cracked from a run-in with Solomon Grundy less than a week ago.

But Tim didn’t do any of that. Because if he was going to carry on any part of Bruce’s legacy, it was this: fighting until his body gave out under him.

Tim just hoped if this mob killed him, they wouldn’t dump his body somewhere embarrassing.

Though it was starting to look less like if, and more like when. Tim didn’t like to be pessimistic in a fight. There was always something more to do, one final trick to pull out of his arsenal. Just like Bruce taught him.

This time, though. Tim wasn’t so sure about that.

There was blood in his mouth. Blood in his eyes. He could barely stand, let alone hold his bo staff. It took every ounce of worn-out effort to block the endless blows raining down on his battered body, let alone try to punch back.

Tim always figured he’d meet a violent end.

He wasn’t sure where his comm link had skittered off to. It got knocked out of his ear under a particularly vicious blow to the head, cutting Tim off from any hope of backup. He was in this one alone.

Someone kneed Tim in his already brutalized ribs. He doubled over and groaned, falling to the ground.

He needed to get back up.

Tim’s arms were too shaky to support his weight. He just collapsed again. A steel-toed boot was raised above his head, ready to come down. Tim just closed his eyes and covered his head as best he could with his hands. Better broken fingers than a broken skull.

The boot never connected.

Instead, Tim heard gunfire.

He knew some of the men had guns, but this was a different kind of gunfire. The automatic kind, coming from a different direction. All Tim could do was watch with wide eyes as his attackers started to drop like flies tinged with red.

The ones who managed to survive the first volley of bullets were scrambling around, yelling at each other in a foreign language. Russian, maybe? It was hard for Tim to tell with his head swimming from blood loss, eardrums pulsing to the infernal beat.

From the darkness, a figure jumped down, landing in front of Tim, holding an automatic rifle over their shoulder. Tim blinked hard, trying to make out who it was.

“I only gave you miserable fucks one rule,” a cold voice growled. “Who wants to remind me what it was?”

Damnit. Tim knew that voice.

He was beyond screwed.

All the men froze. Stuttered apologies and pleas came out of half of them, messy and incoherent. They all sounded positively terrified, cowering in front of the figure.

“We didn’t know it was-”

“-just wanted to scare him-”

“He came to our territory first-”

“-but we weren’t going to kill him-”

Jason Todd fired a few shots into the sky, silencing all of them. Tim swallowed a mouthful of blood, his own heart reverberating against copper-stained teeth.

“I asked what the rule was,” Jason repeated slowly. He cracked his neck and pulled a knife off his belt, flipping it around for show.

One of the men was brave enough to step forward. “No one’s allowed to touch Robin. Sir.”

Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

What the hell?

Jason nodded slowly. “And last I checked-” he made a show of turning back to look at Tim. Under the helmet, Tim couldn’t begin to guess Jason’s intentions. “-there’s only one kid with a big R on his chest fighting with a bo staff. I was being pretty generous with all of you. Protection from the cops, from other gangs. All for one fucking rule.”

“Why are you protecting him, anyway? Vigilante freaks cause us nothing but problems-”

The man’s yelling was abruptly cut off by the bang of Jason’s gun and his brains splattering across the alleyway. A smear of pink landed on his bo staff; there was no coming back from that one.

“I guess I should’ve had two rules. No touching Robin and no asking questions,” Jason hummed lazily, as if he hadn’t just taken a man’s life. He shrugged. “I’ll add it to the tab.” He reloaded the gun.

Tim grabbed Jason’s ankle. “Don’t…” he coughed up a mouthful of blood, “don’t kill them.” It was pathetic. He could hold his own in a fight against Jason. He had before. But now, Tim couldn’t even stand and was left with barely enough strength to even grab Jason.

Like shooing away an insolent child, Jason pulled his leg free and clicked his tongue at Tim. “I’ll get to you in a second. Wait your turn.”

Then, he let loose. And there was nothing Tim could do but watch in horror.

Jason tore through every single one of the men like paper. their bodies dropped one by one because instead of the gun, Jason jumped in with his knife. For the fun of the fight, Tim guessed. Because it definitely sounded like Jason was enjoying himself, flipping through the crowd and throwing out a vile quip now and then.

In seconds, it was over. A pile of bodies with Jason as the indisputable victor, wiping his bloody knife off on his jacket. He walked over to Tim, perfectly casual.

Maybe he was saving Tim for the finale, to be killed by Jason’s own hand around his neck. That was the only reason Tim could think of for Jason being the reason rogues had pulled back so much over the past few weeks. Jason wanted Tim’s blood for himself, so he could make some kind of statement out of killing Robin. Or something like that, anyway.

“Up we go,” Jason said with a grunt, leaning over to Tim up like a sack of potatoes. Tim was hauled up with Jason’s hands under his armpits, then tossed over Jason’s shoulder, with an arm supporting him around his thighs.

At least the dead bodies couldn’t judge Tim for how utterly embarrassing he must’ve looked.

“Put me down,” Tim tried to say, but the words were so slurred they sounded like one long syllable. His head was spinning. Tim had heard of double vision, but never triple. Was that a bad sign??

“It’s pronounced thank you, actually,” Jason said, walking off with Tim in tow. Each step made all of Tim’s injuries feel far worse and he hissed, uselessly trying to claw at Jason’s back, the material of his gloves squeaking pathetically. “As in, thank you for saving my sorry ass, Red Hood.”

“Fuck you,” Tim sputtered. He was getting blood all over Jason’s jacket and it was the only thing he could see, as his vision got more tunneled by the second. “Where are you…” everything hurt and consciousness was slipping away from Tim.

Jason said something. Tim didn’t hear it. His hands went slack, followed by the rest of Tim’s body.

His last coherent thought was a long string of expletives cursing Jason Todd out.

It took over a liter of blood to stabilize Tim. Stitches on his arm, stomach, and forehead littered his battered body. He was still unconscious on Jason’s coffee table, with a makeshift IV drip giving him fluids, stripped down to his boxers.

Jason was torn between being supremely pissed off at Tim getting jumped and being sickly fascinated by the sight of Tim being bruised and bloody. Perfectly laid out for Jason.

Maybe he should’ve thanked that Russian mob before killing them.

Jason knew it was just a matter of time before that mob caused him issues. They were no real loss to his empire. He was lucky he caught them in the act before it was too late.

One simple rule and some idiots went out of their way to ignore it.

Tim was Jason’s meat and no one else’s. Jason hadn’t been ready to mark his territory yet. This sped up his plan. There were so many steps Jason had to skip to save Tim. He had been waiting for Gotham’s trust in Robin to grow secure and rooted down, putting Tim on top of the world. Then a new Batman would step up, probably Dick. It’d leave Tim aimless and vulnerable, quickly forgotten by his city the moment they had someone in a Batsuit to worship instead.

And that was supposed to be the moment Jason swooped in and claimed Tim. Protecting him from all the big mean supervillains who were salivating for Tim’s blood that Jason had been holding back for so long.

He would be Tim’s fucking savior.

But a no-name Russian mob had to go and screw it up. Leaving Jason sitting on his couch, feet propped up on the same coffee table Tim was sprawled out on. Every now and then Jason nudged Tim with his boot, just to check how out cold he really was.

The latest boot nudge to Tim’s hip actually got him to stir.

Tim groaned, trying to move. His attempt to sit up failed pretty spectacularly. His arm gave out and he slipped, head loudly bonking on the coffee table. With the concussion he definitely had, that had to hurt like hell. Jason smirked, lighting a cigarette. Another pretty groan out of Tim’s mouth before he managed to open his eyes, blinking hard to adjust to his surroundings.

Jason didn’t rush him. He just watched as Tim looked around the safehouse, craning his neck. He ran his hands over his body, feeling the neat bandage work. Finally, his eyes settled on Jason, widening slightly. Jason could see the wheels turning in Tim’s bright mind, remembering what had happened.

Tim opened and closed his mouth a few times, presumably trying to decide where to start. Jason took a long drag and blew the smoke in the direction of Tim’s face, making him cough.

“Why?” Tim finally said. His voice sounded a little raw.

Jason arched an eyebrow, playing innocent. “Why what?”

“You know what,” Tim snapped. He gestured to himself. “Why are you… doing this? Telling everyone I’m off limits and…”

“And saving you?” Jason finished, earning him a lethal glare. About as lethal as a kicked puppy could be, anyway. Jason snorted and shrugged. “Because I can.” No point in sharing a plan that was all fucked up.

“I don’t need your help,” Tim said through gritted teeth. He tried to sit up, slower this time. He still didn’t manage it.

Jason stared at him. “I’m sorry, would you have preferred Nightwing scrap what was left of you off the pavement after those asshats were through with you?”

“I can fight my own battles.”

“And lose them too. Clearly.”

An angry noise came out of Tim’s throat. “Did you just want to save me for yourself, or something?” Tim prodded, fist clenched at his side.

“Probably not in the way you’re thinking,” Jason said. He flicked ashes off of his cigarette onto Tim’s skin, pulling a hiss out of him.

Tim frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Figure it out yourself. Isn’t detective work your whole thing?” Jason made a show of adjusting how he was sitting on the couch as if he was getting comfortable. He moved to prop his feet up on Tim’s leg, one of the few places on his body that wasn’t covered in injuries. Using him like a little footstool.

Oh, that really pissed Tim off. Jason grinned wickedly, watching Tim try and fail to pull himself free. There wasn’t much weight on his leg, but he was still too weak to get his body to cooperate, leaving him to sluggishly struggle.

Tim’s face twisted. “If you think you could convince me to be your sidekick, you’re out of your mind.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a lap dog, actually,” Jason tilted his head back. “Much more submissive and obedient, that way.” He didn’t hide the obvious innuendo in his voice.

Tim recoiled. “Very funny.”

“I’m dead serious,” Jason shot back. “I don’t kill for just anyone.” Contrary to popular belief, murder was purposeful, with Jason. If he killed a lot of people, it was for a specific reason. It was a careful image of the unstable madman to make people fear him. But in reality, it was all planned. Every single body in the grave was carefully counted.

“You’re psychotic if you think I’d ever… submit to you.” Tim’s mouth twisted just having to say the words, utterly disgusted by them.

Jason scoffed. “I think there’s a misunderstanding here, Drake.” He pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, flipping it open. “You already belong to me. Every criminal in Gotham knows you’re mine. You’re alive because I’ve allowed it. You’re protected because I called for it. It’s a done fucking deal.” He took his feet off of Tim’s leg and brought them to the floor so he could lean up close to Tim’s pale face. “Understood?”

Like a perfectly rational person, Tim tried to headbutt Jason.

Jason pulled back, more for Tim’s sake than his own. He caught Tim’s head with his hand, forcing it back down on the table.

“I didn’t ask for your protection,” Tim hissed, breathing hard. “You can go to hell, Jason. I can handle this city just fine on my own.”

“I don’t really care if you can or not.” Jason pressed the knife to Tim’s throat, a dangerous warning against any more stupid attempts to fight Jason. “You can be Robin all you want. You can crawl back home to that disgusting cave and play house with all the other bats. I don’t give a shit how you live your life, Drake. So long as you know you’re mine at the end of the day-” he shrugged- “we can take all this slow. I was planning to anyway.”

“You were planning to…” Tim echoed, turning the words over as it sank in for him. “You were planning… what? To make me fall in love with you or something?”

Jason gave another nonchalant shrug. “If that’s how you want to dumb it down, sure.” The plan was far more sophisticated than that. Jason didn’t just need Tim to love him. He needed Tim to crave Jason, need him down to the marrow, and dedicate himself wholly to Jason. Be by Jason’s side as a strategist and partner.

They would get there eventually. Soon Tim would see and understand things from Jason’s perspective. His approach just needed to be a little more head-on.

More fun for Jason in the long run.

It was hard to read Tim’s expression. Maybe Jason was too hopeful to believe there could be some kind of arousal or intrigue there, but he could at least tell there wasn’t nearly as much anger as he expected.

Nor was there any disgust.

For a split second, anyway. Then Tim seemed to snap back to reality, trying to pull away from Jason and the knife.

“Over my dead body,” Tim said with as much venom as it seemed like he could muster.

“You know, I’ll do you a favor, Drake.” Jason lifted one leg over the table so he could sit on Tim’s midsection, making him yell in pain. Jason was a heavy son of a bitch, and his body weight did no favor for Tim’s sore ribs.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tim tried to shove Jason’s chest. He looked a little panicked, like a caged animal.

“I think,” Jason dragged out the words, just for show, “you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to. So I’ll be nice, to make sure you don’t forget it.”

He grabbed Tim’s jaw and jerked his head to the side. Tim cried out and tried to get away. He hit Jason in the chest as hard as he could. Which given his current state, was about the same as being smacked by a toddler.

“You should probably stay still if you don’t want a knife in your eye,” Jason warned. He lifted the blade and pressed it into Tim’s cheek, going deep enough to scar.

He didn’t even have to think about it. Jason knew exactly what he was doing the moment he pressed the blade to Tim’s skin.

A mark that anyone would recognize.

A mark just like the one Jason had been given, years ago.

The letter J could stand for a lot of things. And right now, it stood for marking Tim as Jason’s territory.

Jason dragged the knife down and curled it upward. Then he went in for the second cut, dragging across Tim’s cheek.

Tim had the sense to stay perfectly still while the blade moved. Pained noises came out of his throat and he was giving Jason a death stare, but he stayed still.

A perfectly obedient lap dog.

Jason hummed in satisfaction when his work was done. He flicked the knife closed and slipped it back into his belt, watching fresh blood pour down Tim’s face.

Now they matched.

For good measure, Jason bent over and pressed a kiss against the cut, holding his lips there and feeling Tim’s breath on his skin.

Jason pulled away, licking the blood off his mouth. His first time tasting Tim. It definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tim bit the words out through grit teeth.

Jason just smiled. “Don’t you have pesky bat morals about that?” He climbed off Tim, flicking more ashes onto Tim’s skin from the cigarette that had stayed between Jason’s fingers the whole time. He lifted it to his lips, breathing in. “Your suit is over there.” Jason gestured vaguely to the heaped pile of Tim’s suit.

“You’re-” Tim sputtered on his words. “You’re just going to let me leave?”

“I told you,” Jason hummed, wandering toward his fridge, “you can go live your life. I don’t care. You’ll crawl back to me when I want you to.”

“Like hell.” A loud grunt came from Tim and Jason looked over his shoulder, watching Tim slowly move. Every inch looked painful for Tim, but slowly, he managed to get his stiff joints to obey him.

All while Jason watched, offering absolutely no help.

Tim got dressed with a lot of swearing and groans of pain, occasionally shooting Jason a dirty look. He put a small bandage on his cheek, then limped away, leaving behind the shreds of his dignity.

Jason just smiled, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out on the floor with his heel.

Tim would be back. He would make damn sure of it.

#necrotic writings #ask game #jaytim #dead dove do not eat #batcest #there are sort of consent issues?#jason is intending to stockholm tim so like. yk.#typical jason things.#this was so much fun to write tho #am always obsessed with giving tim and jason matching scars #you can personally decided if you think tim reciprocates some kind of feeling or not #i left it vague on purpose #for the fun.#also ty to my partner for being an editor #but also curse them for yelling at me on my own google doc.#so rude.

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